Poet Robert Service

Robert Service

Robert Service Poems

  • 601.  
    Because I have no garden and
    No pence to buy,Before the flower shop I stand
  • 602.  
    “But it isn't playing the game,” he said,
    And he slammed his books away;“The Latin and Greek I've got in my head
  • 603.  
    A-sittin' in the Bull and Pump
    With double gins to keep us cheerySays she to me, says Polly Crump”
  • 604.  
    Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalized his pen;
    Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of glory now and then;Gave him the magical genius touch; God-given power to gouge out, fling
  • 605.  
    Each sunny day upon my way
    A goat I pass;He has a beard of silver grey,
  • 606.  
    My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense:
    “Its takes a hair-brush back,” said he, “to teach kids common-sense.”And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face.
  • 607.  
    Now Eddie Malone got a swell grammyfone to draw all the trade to his store;
    An' sez he: “Come along for a season of song, which the like ye had niver before.”Then Dogrib, an' Slave, an' Yellow-knife brave, an' Cree in his dinky canoe,
  • 608.  
    I've wearied of so many things
    Adored in youthful days;Music no more my spirit wings,
  • 609.  
    “Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me?
    It fair maks me hamesick,” says Private McPhee.“And whit did she send ye?” says Private McPhun,
  • 610.  
    Throughout my life I see
    A guiding hand;The pitfalls set for me
  • 611.  
    There was a woman, and she was wise; woefully wise was she;
    She was old, so old, yet her years all told were but a score and three;And she knew by heart, from finish to start, the Book of Iniquity.
  • 612.  
    In city shop a hat I saw
    That to my fancy seemed to strike,I gave my wage to buy the straw,
  • 613.  
    Moko, the Educated Ape is here,
    The pet of vaudeville, so the posters say, And every night the gaping people pay
  • 614.  
    “Tuberculosis should not be,”
    The old professor said.“If folks would hearken unto me
  • 615.  
    There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon,
    There where the sullen sun-dogs glare in the snow-bright, bitter noon,And the glacier-glutted streams sweep down at the clarion call of June.
  • 616.  
    The leaves are sick and jaundiced, they
    Drift down the air;December's sky is sodden grey,
  • 617.  
    You speak to me, but does your speech
    With truest truth your thought convey?I listen to your words and each
  • 618.  
    My boy's come back; he's here at last;
    He came home on a special train.My longing and my ache are past,
  • 619.  
    They say she speeded wanton wild
    When she was warm with wine;And so she killed a little child,
  • 620.  
    I never could imagine God:
    I don't suppose I ever will.Beside His altar fire I nod
  • 621.  
    Oh you who have daring deeds to tell!
    And you who have felt Ambition's spell!Have you heard of the louse who longed to dwell
  • 622.  
    I

  • 623.  
    It's good the great green earth to roam,
    Where sights of awe the soul inspire;But oh, it's best, the coming home,
  • 624.  
    The Judge looked down, his face was grim,
    He scratched his ear;The gangster's moll looked up at him
  • 625.  
    The Junior God looked from his place
    In the conning towers of heaven,And he saw the world through the span of space
  • 626.  
    “Miss Rosemary,” I dourly said,
    “Our balance verges on the red,We must cut down our overhead.
  • 627.  
    The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
    Down valleys dreadly desolate;The lordly mountains soar in scorn
  • 628.  
    Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond,
    That dreams at the gates of the day?Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies,
  • 629.  
    From wrath-red dawn to wrath-red dawn,
    The guns have brayed without abate;And now the sick sun looks upon
  • 630.  
    Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
    And the mouth so mocking gay,A wanton you to the finger-tips,
  • 631.  
    If we could roll back History
    A century, let's say,And start from there, I'm sure that we
  • 632.  
    This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:
    “Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane-Strong for the red rage of battle; sane for I harry them sore;
  • 633.  
    Having an aged hate of height
    I forced myself to climb the Tower,Yet paused at every second flight
  • 634.  
    I've learned-Of all the friends I've won
    Dame Nature is the best,And to her like a child I run
  • 635.  
    (The Dark Side)

  • 636.  
    When a man gits on his uppers in a hard-pan sort of town,
    An' he ain't got nothin' comin' an' he can't afford ter eat,An' he's in a fix for lodgin' an' he wanders up an' down,
  • 637.  
    (The French “Tommy”).

  • 638.  
    Since I have come to years sedate
    I see with more and more acumenThe bitter irony of Fate,
  • 639.  
    From out her shabby rain-coat pocket
    The little Jew girl in the trainProduced a dinted silver locket
  • 640.  
    In the moonless, misty night, with my little pipe alight,
    I am sitting by the camp-fire's fading cheer;Oh, the dew is falling chill on the dim, deer-haunted hill,
  • 641.  
    Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it,
    Though it lead to glory or the darkness of the pit.Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid your love good-by;
  • 642.  
    “And when I come to die,” he said,
    “Ye shall not lay me out in state,Nor leave your laurels at my head,
  • 643.  
    “Young fellow, listen to a friend:
    Beware of wedlock-'tis a gamble,It's MAN who holds the losing end
  • 644.  
    This is the pay-day up at the mines, when the bearded brutes come down;
    There's money to burn in the streets to-night, so I've sent my klooch to town,With a haggard face and a ribband of red entwined in her hair of brown.
  • 645.  
    Jack would laugh an' joke all day;
    Never saw a lad so gay;Singin' like a medder lark,
  • 646.  
    There's a cry from out the loneliness-oh, listen, Honey, listen!
    Do you hear it, do you fear it, you're a-holding of me so?You're a-sobbing in your sleep, dear, and your lashes, how they glisten-
  • 647.  
    Italian people peaceful are,-
    Let it be to their credit.They mostly fail to win a war,
  • 648.  
    Oh the wife she tried to tell me that 'twas nothing but the thrumming
    Of a wood-pecker a-rapping on the hollow of a tree;And she thought that I was fooling when I said it was the drumming
  • 649.  
    “You're bloody right-I was a Red,”
    The Man from Cook's morosely said.And if our chaps had won the War
  • 650.  
    He's the man from Eldorado, and he's just arrived in town,
    In moccasins and oily buckskin shirt.He's gaunt as any Indian, and pretty nigh as brown;
Total 831 poems written by Robert Service

Poem of the day

The Choice
 by Robert William Service

Some inherit manly beauty,
Some come into worldly wealth;
Some have lofty sense of duty,
Others boast exultant health.
Though the pick may be confusing,
Health, wealth, charm or character,
If you had the chance of choosing
Which would you prefer?
...

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