Robert Fuller Murray

(1863 - 1894 / United States)

The Waster's Presentiment - Poem by Robert Fuller Murray

I shall be spun. There is a voice within
Which tells me plainly I am all undone;
For though I toil not, neither do I spin,
I shall be spun.

April approaches. I have not begun
Schwegler or Mackintosh, nor will begin
Those lucid works till April 21.

So my degree I do not hope to win,
For not by ways like mine degrees are won;
And though, to please my uncle, I go in,
I shall be spun.


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Read poems about / on: april, hope, work



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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