STILL I love to rhyme, and still more, rhyming, to wander
Far from the commoner way;
Old-time trills and falls by the brook-side still do I ponder,
Dreaming to-morrow to-day.
Come here, come, revive me, Sun-God, teach me, Apollo,
Measures descanted before;
Since I ancient verses, I emulous follow,
Prints in the marbles of yore.
Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested,
Songs for the brain to forget –
Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested
Piping and chirruping yet.
Thoughts? No thought has yet unskilled attempted to flutter
Trammelled so vilely in verse;
He who writes but aims at fame and his bread and his butter,
Won with a groan and a curse.
(Robert Louis Stevenson)
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Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Education Poems, Fame Poems, Brain Poems, Contemplation Poems, Dreaming PoemsBased on Keywords: song-birds, trills, invested, old-time, emulous, rhyming, vilely, unskilled, sun-god, commoner, attempted