Ah, not so many years ago I was a young romantic .
The magnitude of human woe struck horror to my heart ,
To aid my comrades here below my energy was frantic ,
And yet I never seemed to know just how or where to start .
Ah , not so many years ahead a classic I shall be .
My noble thoughts by thousands read shall win me endless credit ,
In temples of the honoured dead a niche shall wait for me ,
And I , forgetful what I said , shall rest content I said it .
But now , between the then and then , a hypocrite I am , alas ,
The silver smoothness of my pen does not reflect my views ,
I look upon the world of men and cannot care a damn , alas ,
And wait for it to praise me when I veil this wretched news .
18th May 1952. The final line is in process of alteration. Marion was doing Schools .