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 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
708
MY MASTER.
I was apprentice unto many arts,
And many masters taught me all their skill,
From music with its deep mysterious thrill,
To the vast ventures of the mightiest marts;
And many masters taught me all their skill,
From music with its deep mysterious thrill,
To the vast ventures of the mightiest marts;
In all I played no inconspicuous parts,
Passing from sphere to sphere with wayward will,
Baring my breast to love's unhurtful darts,
And yet I felt that I knew nothing still.
Passing from sphere to sphere with wayward will,
Baring my breast to love's unhurtful darts,
And yet I felt that I knew nothing still.
I only gathered folly, not true lore.
Mere pretty shells and pebbles on the shore,
Washed up from the unfathomable wave;
Mere pretty shells and pebbles on the shore,
Washed up from the unfathomable wave;
But when I to the Galilæan gave
My heart, as I had never given before,
The tree of wisdom grew on folly's grave.
My heart, as I had never given before,
The tree of wisdom grew on folly's grave.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |