Robert William Service (16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)
When I was daft (as urchins are),
And full if fairy lore,
I aimed an arrow at a star
And hit - the barnyard door.
I've shot at heaps of stars since then,
but always it's the same -
A barnyard door has mocked me when
Uranus was my aim.
So, I'll shoot starward as of yore,
Though wide my arrows fall;
I'd rather hit a big barn door
Then never aim at all.
Comments about this poem (Aspiration by Robert William Service )
People who read Robert William Service also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley