Of Poetry I've been accused, <br />But much more often I have not; <br />Oh, I have been so much amused <br />By those who've put me on the spot, <br />And measured me by rules above <br />Those I observe with equal love. <br /> <br />An artisan of verse am I, <br />Of simple sense and humble tone; <br />My Thesaurus is handy by, <br />A rhyming lexicon I own; <br />Without them I am ill at ease - <br />What bards would use such aids as these? <br /> <br />Bad poets make good verse, they say; <br />The Great have not distained to woo <br />The modest muse of every day; <br />Read Longfellow and Byron through, <br />The fabric test - much verse you'll see <br />Compared with what is poetry. <br /> <br />Small blame; one cannot always soar <br />To heights of hyaline sublime; <br />Melodious prose one must deplore, <br />And fetters of rebellious rhyme: <br />Keats, Browning - that's another tale, <br />But even Giants fail and fail. <br /> <br />I've worshipped Ryley, Harte and Field, <br />And though their minstrelsy I lack, <br />To them heart-homage here I yield, <br />And follow with my verseman's pack: <br />To them with gratitude I look, <br />For briefing me to make this book.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-masters/
