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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508283" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Dedication</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508283" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In youth I longed to paint<br> The loveliness I saw;<br>And yet by dire constraint<br> I had to study Law.<br>But now all that is past,<br> And I have no regret,<br>For I am free at last<br> Law to forget.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508283" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">To beauty newly born<br> With brush and tube I play;<br>And though my daubs you scorn,<br> I'll learn to paint some day.<br>When I am eighty old,<br> Maybe I'll better them,<br>And you may yet behold<br> A gem.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508283" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Old Renoir used to paint,<br> Brush strapped to palsied hand;<br>His fervour of a saint<br> How I can understand.<br>My joy is my reward,<br> And though you gently smile,<br>Grant me to fumble, Lord,<br> A little while!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a></strong></div>

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