Apologia Pro Suis Verbis

by Franklin Pierce Adams

The songs I have to sing you
Might bear a lovelier tune;
The verbal rose I bring you
Might breathe a nearer June.

The verses that I make you
Might move in loftier rhyme;
The thrill of them might shake you
From now to the end of Time.

The fruits of mine endeavor
Might fall from a fairer bough —
All these might be. However,
I'm darned if I know how.