Poems

Gypsy Jill

They're hanging Bill at eight o' clock,
And millions will applaud.
He killed, and so they have to kill,
Such is the will of God.
His brother Tom is on my bed
To keep me comforted.

I see his bleary, blotchy face,
I hear his sodden snore.
He plans that he can take Bill's place;
I felt worse than a whore
As in his arms I cried all night,
Thinking of poor Bill's plight.

I keep my eyes upon the clock;
It nears the stroke of eight.
I think how bravely Bill will walk
To meet his gallows fate . . .
His loaded gun is in the tent,--
I know now what he meant.

Though Tom is boastful he will wed
With me, no more to part,
I'll put a bullet through his head,
Another through my heart:
At eight, stone-dead we three will be,
--Bill, Tom and me.



Poem topics: , , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add Gypsy Jill poem to your favorites

Add Poet Robert William Service to your favorites

Similar Poems
There is no similar poems related to "Gypsy Jill" poem.
All Robert William Service Poems

Popular Poets

Ethna Carbery (2 poems)
George MacDonald (447 poems)
Dollie Radford (1 poems)
William Shakespeare (177 poems)
Emily Huntington Miller (1 poems)
Richard Rowlands (1 poems)
Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1 poems)
Amy Clampitt (4 poems)
Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov (3 poems)
Sappho (0 poems)

Popular Poems

To The Morning, Written During Illness, by Henry Kirk White
The Library, by George Crabbe
Michael, by Robert William Service
Kora In Hell: Improvisations Xxvii, by William Carlos Williams
Elegy Xvi: The Expostulation, by John Donne
The Restoration Of The Royal Family, by John Keble
To John Keats, by James Henry Leigh Hunt
Neighbors, by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Margaret's Song, by Lascelles Abercrombie
An Angel In The House, by James Henry Leigh Hunt