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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536659" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: XCV</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536659" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">HE IS NOT A POET<br>I would not, if I could, be called a poet.<br>I have no natural love of the ``chaste muse.''<br>If aught be worth the doing I would do it;<br>And others, if they will, may tell the news.<br>I care not for their laurels but would choose<br>On the world's field to fight or fall or run.<br>My soul's ambition will not take excuse<br>To play the dial rather than the sun.<br>The faith I held I hold, as when a boy<br>I left my books for cricket--bat and gun.<br>The tales of poets are but scholars' themes.<br>In my hot youth I held it that a man<br>With heart to dare and stomach to enjoy<br>Had better work to his hand in any plan<br>Of any folly, so the thing were done,<br>Than in the noblest dreaming of mere dreams.</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=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</a></strong></div>

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