The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley in ten volumes |
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A WORN-OUT PENCIL |
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 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
482
A WORN-OUT PENCIL
Welladay!
Here I lay
You at rest—all worn away,
O my pencil, to the tip
Of our old companionship!
Here I lay
You at rest—all worn away,
O my pencil, to the tip
Of our old companionship!
Memory
Sighs to see
What you are, and used to be,
Looking backward to the time
When you wrote your earliest rhyme!—
Sighs to see
What you are, and used to be,
Looking backward to the time
When you wrote your earliest rhyme!—
When I sat
Filing at
Your first point, and dreaming that
Your initial song should be
Worthy of posterity.
Filing at
Your first point, and dreaming that
Your initial song should be
Worthy of posterity.
With regret
I forget
If the song be living yet,
Yet remember, vaguely now,
It was honest, anyhow.
I forget
If the song be living yet,
Yet remember, vaguely now,
It was honest, anyhow.
483
You have brought
Me a thought—
Truer yet was never taught,—
That the silent song is best,
And the unsung worthiest.
Me a thought—
Truer yet was never taught,—
That the silent song is best,
And the unsung worthiest.
So if I,
When I die,
May as uncomplainingly
Drop aside as now you do,
Write of me, as I of you:—
When I die,
May as uncomplainingly
Drop aside as now you do,
Write of me, as I of you:—
Here lies one
Who begun
Life a-singing, heard of none;
And he died, satisfied,
With his dead songs by his side.
Who begun
Life a-singing, heard of none;
And he died, satisfied,
With his dead songs by his side.
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |