Peculations [poem by Agnes L. Storrie]

[Editor: This poem by Agnes L. Storrie was published in Poems, 1909.]

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 book 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.



Source:
Agnes L. Storrie. Poems, J. W. Kettlewell, Sydney, 1909, pages 150-151

Editor’s notes:
peculation = embezzlement

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