Robert Service Poems

  • 251.  
    I have no brief for gambling, nay
    The notion I expressThat money earned 's the only way
  • 252.  
    Lone amid the cafe's cheer,
    Sad of heart am I to-night;Dolefully I drink my beer,
  • 253.  
    Past ash cans and alley cats,
    Fetid. overflowing gutters,Leprous lines of rancid flats
  • 254.  
    My daughter Jane makes dresses
    For beautiful Princesses;But though she's plain is Jane,
  • 255.  
    Oh ye whose hearts are resonant, and ring to War's romance,
    Hear ye the story of a boy, a peasant boy of France;A lad uncouth and warped with toil, yet who, when trial came,
  • 256.  
    He was a traveling tinker lad
    And I was a gypsy jade,Yet never were two so gay and glad,
  • 257.  
    Within a pub that's off the Strand and handy to the bar,
    With pipe in mouth and mug in hand sat Jobson of the Star.“Come, sit ye down, ye wond'ring wight, and have a yarn,” says he.
  • 258.  
    I thought I would go daft when Joey died.
    He was my first, and wise beyond his years.For nigh a hundred nights I cried and cried,
  • 259.  
    Oh Julie Claire was very fair,
    Yet generous as well,And many a lad of metal had
  • 260.  
    You've heard of Julot the apache, and Gigolette, his mome. . . .
    Montmartre was their hunting-ground, but Belville was their home.A little chap just like a boy, with smudgy black mustache,-
  • 261.  
    Just think! some night the stars will gleam
    Upon a cold, grey stone,And trace a name with silver beam,
  • 262.  
    A very humble pen I ply
    Beneath a cottage thatch;And in the sunny hours I try
  • 263.  
    It was the steamer Alice May that sailed the Yukon foam.
    And touched in every river camp from Dawson down to Nome.It was her builder, owner, pilot, Captain Silas Geer,
  • 264.  
    My Louis loved me oh so well
    And spiered me for his wife;He would have haled me from the hell
  • 265.  
    Now Kelly was no fighter;
    He loved his pipe and glass;An easygoing blighter,
  • 266.  
    Alphonso Rex who died in Rome
    Was quite a fistful as a kid;For when I visited his home,
  • 267.  
    A ray of sun strayed softly round,
    For something to caress,Until a resting place it found
  • 268.  
    A grey gull hovered overhead,
    Then wisely flew away.‘In half a jiffy you'll be dead,'
  • 269.  
    What would I choose to see when I
    To this bright earth shall bid good-bye?When fades forever from my sight
  • 270.  
    I Laugh at Life: its antics make for me a giddy games,
    Where only foolish fellows take themselves with solemn aim.I laugh at pomp and vanity, at riches, rank and pride;
  • 271.  
    Let laureates sing with rapturous swing
    Of the wonder and glory of work;Let pulpiteers preach and with passion impeach
  • 272.  
    School yourself to savour most
    Joys that have but little cost;Prove the best of life is free,
  • 273.  
    The leaves are falling one and one,
    Each like a life to me,As over-soonly in the sun
  • 274.  
    You who have lived in the land,
    You who have trusted the trail,You who are strong to withstand,
  • 275.  
    I saw three wounded of the war:
    And the first had lost his eyes;And the second went on wheels and had
  • 276.  
    O Tavern of the Golden Snail!
    Ten sous have I, so I'll regale;Ten sous your amber brew to sip
  • 277.  
    If the good King only knew,
    Lindy Lou,What a cherub child are you,
  • 278.  
    Oh Lip-Stick Liz was in the biz, That's the oldest known in history;
    She had a lot of fancy rags, Of her form she made no myst'ry.She had a man, a fancy man, His name was Alexander,
  • 279.  
    Wars have been and wars will be
    Till the human race is run;Battles red by land and sea,
  • 280.  
    Come out, O Little Moccasins, and frolic on the snow!
    Come out, O tiny beaded feet, and twinkle in the light!I'll play the old Red River reel, you used to love it so:
  • 281.  

  • 282.  
    His face was like a lobster red,
    His legs were white as mayonnaise:“I've had a jolly lunch,” he said,
  • 283.  
    I never saw a face so bright
    With brilliant blood and joy,As was the grinning mug last night
  • 284.  
    Said Brown: ‘I can't afford to die
    For I have bought annuity,And every day of living I
  • 285.  
    Lord, let me live, that more and more
    Your wonder world I may adore;With every dawn to grow and grow
  • 286.  
    “Black is the sky, but the land is white-
    (O the wind, the snow and the storm!)- Father, where is our boy to-night?
  • 287.  
    Two men I saw reel from a bar
    And stumble down the street;Coarse and uncouth as workmen are,
  • 288.  
    Ah me! How hard is destiny!
    If we could only know. . . .I bought my son from Sicily
  • 289.  
    ‘A ticket for the lottery
    I've purchased every week,' said she ‘For years a score
  • 290.  
    O Sacred Muse, my lyre excuse!-
    My verse is vagrant singing;Rhyme I invoke for simple folk
  • 291.  
    Of course you've heard of the Nancy Lee, and how she sailed away
    On her famous quest of the Arctic flea, to the wilds of Hudson's Bay?For it was a foreign Prince's whim to collect this tiny cuss,
  • 292.  
    When I was young I was too proud
    To wheel my daughter in her pram.“It's infra dig,” I said aloud,-
  • 293.  
    I do not write for love of pelf,
    Nor lust for phantom fame;I do not rhyme to please myself,
  • 294.  
    Mad Maria in the Square
    Sits upon a wicker chair.When the keeper asks the price
  • 295.  
    Said Hongray de la Glaciere unto his proud Papa:
    “I want to take a wife mon Père,” The Marquis laughed: “Ha! Ha!And whose, my son?” he slyly said; but Hongray with a frown
  • 296.  
    Three maids there were in meadow bright,
    The eldest less then seven;Their eyes were dancing with delight,
  • 297.  
    No man can be a failure if he thinks he's a success;
    he may not own his roof-tree overhead,He may be on his uppers and have hocked his evening dress-
  • 298.  
    I often wonder how
    Life clicks becauseThey don't make women now
  • 299.  
    All day he lay upon the sand
    When summer sun was bright,And let the grains sift through his hand
  • 300.  
    They told to Marie Antoinette:
    “The beggers at your gateHave eyes too sad for tears to wet,
Total 831 poems written by Robert Service

Poem of the day

Two Songs For Solitude: The Solitary
 by Sara Teasdale

Let them think I love them more than I do,
Let them think I care, though I go alone,
If it lifts their pride, what is it to me
Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone?

It is one to me that they come or go
If I have myself and the drive of my will,
And strength to climb on a summer night

Read complete poem

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