Here is this vale of sweet abiding, <br />My ultimate and dulcet home, <br />That gently dreams above the chiding <br />of restless and impatient foam; <br />Beyond the hazards of hell weather, <br />The harceling of wind and sea, <br />With timbers morticed tight together <br />My old hulk havens happily. <br /> <br />The dawn exultantly discloses <br />My lawn lit with mimosa gold; <br />The joy of January roses <br />Is with me when rich lands are cold; <br />Serene with bells of beauty chiming, <br />This dream domain to be belongs, <br />By sweet conspiracy of rhyming, <br />And virtue of some idle songs. <br /> <br />I thank the gracious Lord of Living <br />Who gave me power and will to write: <br />May I be worthy of His giving <br />And win to merit in His sight. . . . <br />O merciful and mighty Master, <br />Though I have faltered in the past, <br />Your scribe I be. . . . Despite disaster <br />Let me be faithful to the last.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/finale-2/
