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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
All Entries 1997 - 2002
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Published by Susan on 08/01/2003 (3058 reads)
The height of wisdom seems to me...

The height of wisdom seems to me
          That of a child;
So let my ageing vision be
          Serene and mild.
The depth of folly, I aver,
          is to fish deep
In that dark pool of science where
          Truth-demons sleep.

Let me not be a bearded sage
          Seeing too clear;
In issues of the atom age
          Man-doom I fear.
So long as living's outward show
          To me is fair,
What lies behind I do not know,
          And do not care.

Of woeful fears of future ill
          That earth-folk haunt,
Let me, as radiant meadow rill,
          Be ignorant.
Aye, though a sorry dunce I be
          In learning's school,
Lord, marvellously make of me
          Your Happy Fool!

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