D. Alexander Neill

“The baker kneads; the weaver knits;
The smithy plies the sun-bright steel;
The potter turns; the farmer plants;
The miller grinds his dusty meal.
While I my quill in trembling hand
Pen odes to please the fickle throng;
The greatest craftsman of them all,
Save only she who sings my song.”

D. Alexander Neill
Read more quotes from D. Alexander Neill

Share this quote:
Twitter icon

Friends Who Liked This Quote

To see what your friends thought of this quote, please sign up!

All Members Who Liked This Quote

None yet!

Browse By Tag