Robert William Service
At school I never gained a prize,
Proving myself the model ass;
Yet how I watched the wistful eyes,
And cheered my mates who topped the class.
No envy in my heart I found,
Yet bone was worthier to own
Those precious books in vellum bound,
Than I, a dreamer and a drone.
No prize at school I ever gained
(Shirking my studies, I suppose):
Yes, I remember being caned
For lack of love of Latin prose.
For algebra I won no praise,
In grammar I was far from bright:
Yet, oh, how Poetry would raise
In me a rapture of delight!
I never gained a prize at school;
The dullard's cap adorned my head;
My masters wrote me down a fool,
And yet - I'm sorry they are dead.
I'd like to go to them and say:
"Yours is indeed a tricky trade.
My honoured classmates, where are they?
Yet I, the dunce, brave books have made."
Oh, I am old and worn and grey,
And maybe have not long to live;
Yet 'tis my hope at some Prize Day
At my old school the Head will give
A tome or two of mine to crown
Some pupil's well-deserved success -
Proving a scapegrace and a clown
May win at last to worthiness.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Dunce by Robert William Service )
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
- come, come to the light, let us all bathe., RIC S. BASTASA
- dignity finally comes in the form of a r.., RIC S. BASTASA
- to live in the kingdom of the clouds, RIC S. BASTASA
- but always remember no one owns it, RIC S. BASTASA
- Diaris Godoooo!, Rex mayor Ubini
- THE OLD MAN HAS FOUND TRUE LOVE AGAIN, RIC S. BASTASA
- गोरबो इसिँनिफ्राइ -69, Ronjoy Brahma
- Her Beautiful Lies, Swagat Bhattacharjee
- गोरबो इसिँनिफ्राइ -68, Ronjoy Brahma
- On this rainy day, Pradip Chattopadhyay