Poem: To myself

To myself (undated, but probably composed by Lorna in 1941)

Like to a wanderer in the dark
Or like a candle without a spark
Ready to burn yet all unlit
Neither for fame nor fortune fit
Able in few, expert in none
Longing for power but in one
Likes to dies unsatisfied
Or be dumb because of pride
You reader see, these verses nigh
Draweth a fool, and this is I