Ad Martialem

…from the quills of the dead white poets

Robert Louis Stevenson (18501894)


Go(d) knows, my Martial, if we two could be

To enjoy our days set wholly free;

To the true life together bend our mind,

And take a furlough from the falser kind.

No rich saloon, nor palace of the great,

Nor suit at law should trouble our estate;

On no vainglorious statues should we look,

But of a walk, a talk, a little book,

Baths, wells and meads, and the veranda shade,

Let all our travels and our toils be made.

Now neither lives unto himself, alas!

And the good suns we see, that flash and pass

And perish; and the bell that knells them cries:

“Another gone: O when will ye arise?”

About Paul Jacko

Jacko was born in Czechoslovakia not long before the communist putsch in February 1948. He studied industrial chemistry there and left in 1969 for Australia, where he became a lawyer and established his own practice. He has now retired and beside hunting, fishing, camping, prospecting and playing golf he amuses himself by writing.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>