If on isle of the sea <br /> I have to tarry, <br />With one book, let it be <br /> A Dictionary. <br />For though I love life's scene, <br /> It seems absurd, <br />My greatest joy has been <br /> The printed word. <br /> <br />Though painter with delight <br /> May colours blend, <br />They are but in his sight <br /> Means to an end. <br />Yet while I harmonise <br /> Or pattern them, <br />A precious word I prize <br /> Like to a gem. <br /> <br />A fiddler lures fine tone <br /> From gut and wood; <br />A sculptor from stark stone <br /> Shapes godlihood. <br />But let me just caress, <br /> Like silver birds, <br />For their own loveliness-- <br /> Bewitching words.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/words-7/