In my craft or sullen art <br />Exercised in the still night <br />When only the moon rages <br />And the lovers lie abed <br />With all their griefs in their arms <br />I labour by singing light <br />Not for ambition or bread <br />Or the strut and trade of charms <br />On the ivory stages <br />But for the common wages <br />Of their most secret heart. <br /> <br />Not for the proud man apart <br />From the raging moon I write <br />On these spindrift pages <br />Nor for the towering dead <br />With their nightingales and psalms <br />But for the lovers, their arms <br />Round the griefs of the ages, <br />Who pay no praise or wages <br />Nor heed my craft or art<br /><br />Dylan Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-my-craft-or-sullen-art/
