Poet Robert Service

Robert Service

Robert Service Poems

  • 801.  
    I was in Warsaw when the first bomb fell;
    I was in Warsaw when the Terror came-Havoc and horror, famine, fear and flame,
  • 802.  
    “Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay
    And your pen behind your ear;Will you mark my cheque in the usual way?
  • 803.  
    The aged Queen who passed away
    Had sixty servants, so they say;Twice sixty hands her shoes to tie:
  • 804.  
    Some praise the Lord for Light,
    The living spark;I thank God for the Night
  • 805.  
    Her smile ineffably is sweet,
    Devinely she is slim;Yet oh how weary are her feet,
  • 806.  
    I scanned two lines with some surmise
    As over Keats I chanced to pore:‘And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
  • 807.  
    Since I am sick of Wheels
    That jar my day,Unto the hush that heals
  • 808.  
    Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me;
    I've got to watch the bannock bake-how restful is the air!You'd little think that we were somewhere north of Sixty-three,
  • 809.  
    My folks think I'm a serving maid
    Each time I visit home;They do not dream I ply a trade
  • 810.  
    We have no heart for civil strife,
    Our burdens we prefer to bear;We long to live a peaceful life
  • 811.  
    He was our leader and our guide;
    He was our saviour and our star.We walked in friendship by his side,
  • 812.  
    Let poets piece prismatic words,
    Give me the jewelled joy of birds!
  • 813.  
    ‘Why did the lady in the lift
    Slap that poor parson's face?'Said Mother, thinking as she sniffed,
  • 814.  
    She'd bring to me a skein of wool
    And beg me to hold out my hands;so on my pipe I cease to pull
  • 815.  
    I stood before a candy shop
    Which with a Christmas radiance shone;I saw my parents pass and stop
  • 816.  
    I would rather drink than eat,
    And though I superbly sup,Food, I feel, can never beat
  • 817.  
    When I went by the meadow gate
    The chestnut mare would trot to meet me,And as her coming I would wait,
  • 818.  
    Oh how I'd be gay and glad
    If a little house I had,Snuggled in a shady lot,
  • 819.  
    For failure I was well equipped
    And should have come to grief,By atavism grimly gripped,
  • 820.  
    If on isle of the sea
    I have to tarry,With one book, let it be
  • 821.  
    When twenty-one I loved to dream,
    And was to loafing well inclined;Somehow I couldn't get up steam
  • 822.  
    Each day I live I thank the Lord
    I do the work I love;And in it find a rich reward,
  • 823.  
    Worms finer for fishing you couldn't be wishing;
    I delved them dismayed from the velvety sod;The rich loam upturning I gathered them squirming,
  • 824.  
    Is it not strange? A year ago to-day,
    With scarce a thought beyond the hum-drum round,I did my decent job and earned my pay;
  • 825.  
    What guts he had, the Dago lad
    Who fought that Frenchman grim with guile;For nigh an hour they milled like mad,
  • 826.  
    One pearly day of early May
    I strolled upon the sand,And saw, say half-a-mile away
  • 827.  
    I'm part of people I have known
    And they are part of me;The seeds of thought that I have sown
  • 828.  
    I don't know how the fishes feel, but I can't help thinking it odd,
    That a gay young flapper of a female eel should fall in love with a cod.Yet-that's exactly what she did and it only goes to prove,
  • 829.  
    “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,
    On this glittering morn of May?”“I'm going to join the Colours, Dad;
  • 830.  
    Her baby was so full of glee,
    And through the dayIt laughed and babbled on her knee
  • 831.  
    My poem may be yours indeed
    In melody and tone,If in its rhythm you can read
Total 831 poems written by Robert Service

Poem of the day

Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poem
In Grandmamma's Kitchen
 by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

In grandmamma's kitchen, things got in a riot-
The cream in a pot on the shelf,
Where everything always seemed peaceful and quiet,
Got whipped, for I heard it myself.
And grandmamma said-such a queer thing to say,
That it made some things better to whip them that way.


...

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