Robert William Service

(16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)

The Trust - Poem by Robert William Service

Because I've eighty years and odd,
And darkling is my day,
I now prepare to meet my God,
And for forgiveness pray.
Not for salvation is my plea,
Nor Heaven hope,--just rest:
Begging: "Dear Father, pardon me,
I did not do my best.

"I did not measure with the Just
To serve my fellow men;
But unto levity and lust
I loaned my precious pen.
I sorrow for the sacred touch,
And though I toiled with zest,
Dear God, have mercy, in-as-much
I did not do my best.

"I bless You for the gift you gave
That brought me golden joy;
Yet here beside the gentle grave
I grieve for its employ.
Have pity, Lord,--so well I know
I failed you in the test,
And my last thought is one of woe:
I did not do my best."

Comments about The Trust by Robert William Service

  • (8/29/2016 5:40:00 AM)

    A lovely poem indeed! (Report)Reply

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  • Aremo Abiodun Best (7/11/2016 6:06:00 AM)

    awesome poem, but it some how sounds sorrowful (Report)Reply

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  • Aremo Abiodun Best (7/11/2016 6:04:00 AM)

    some people are just naturally blessed with the pen (Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: lust, sorrow, father, joy, heaven, hope, trust, god

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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