Poems (Storrie)/Peculations
Peculations.
Though you may never notice me, Nor e'er your loss recall, I tell you, that instinctively I wrong and rob you all.
Some trifle that you never miss, Some touch of voice or face, A legal peculation this Upon the human race.
Some shadow that your eyes have caught From depths I never plumbed, Some wisdom from a bonk of thought That I have never thumbed.
You toil, and though you do not heed, I share in your reward, The seal of your accomplished deed Is added to my hoard.
The largesse of all happy minds I glean in shining sheaves, And what the greedy miser binds My greedier spirit thieves.
The solace that from grief you wring, All sorrowless is mine, And when you build a faultless thing, I borrow the design.
The tracks you blaze, the spurs you win— Of all I take my tithe; Ay, even when Death garners in I levy on the scythe.
Though you may never notice me, Nor any loss recall, I will confess that shamelessly I wrong, and rob you all.