A Poet's Harvest Home Being One Hundred Short Poems: By William Bell Scott ... With an Aftermath of Twenty Short Poems |
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| I. |
| II. | II.
SHAKESPEARE. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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| VII. |
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| XV. |
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 | A Poet's Harvest Home |  |
118
II. SHAKESPEARE.
Give me but fame! the poetaster cries,
Standing on tiptoe so to touch the skies.
Standing on tiptoe so to touch the skies.
Why gather empty shells by God's ebb-shore, Vital no more,
Records of what has been, what matter they?
My soul's in mine own hand to-day;—
Quoth Shakespeare, and to Stratford bent his way.
Records of what has been, what matter they?
My soul's in mine own hand to-day;—
Quoth Shakespeare, and to Stratford bent his way.
| A Poet's Harvest Home | |