Robert Service Poems

  • 701.  
    Old Man Death's a lousy heel who will not play the game:
    Let Graveyard yawn and doom down crash, he'll sneer and turn away.But when the sky with rapture rings and joy is like a flame,
  • 702.  
    I opened wide the bath-room door,
    And all at once switched on the light,When moving swift across the floor
  • 703.  

  • 704.  
    'Twas in the grave-yard's gruesome gloom
    That May and I were mated;We sneaked inside and on a tomb
  • 705.  
    I am a Day . . .
    My sky is grey,My wind is wild,
  • 706.  
    Birds have no consciousness of doom:
    Yon thrush that serenades me dailyFrom scented snow of hawthorn bloom
  • 707.  
    Said I to Pain: “You would not dare
    Do ill to me.”Said Pain: “Poor fool! Why should I care
  • 708.  
    Sweet maiden, why disguise
    The beauty of your eyes With glasses black?
  • 709.  
    Where are the dames I used to know
    In Dawson in the days of yore?Alas, it's fifty years ago,
  • 710.  
    I love to watch my seven cows
    In meads of buttercups abrowse, With guilded knees;
  • 711.  
    Although you deem it far from nice,
    And it perchance may hurt you,Let me suggest that cowardice
  • 712.  
    Ten little brown chicks scattered and scuffled,
    Under the blue-berries hiding in fear;Mother-grouse cackling, feathers all ruffled,
  • 713.  
    Dick's dead! It was the Polack guard
    Put powdered glass into his cageWhen I was tramping round the yard,-
  • 714.  
    “Carry your suitcase, Sir?” he said.
    I turned away to hide a grin,For he was shorter by a head
  • 715.  
    An Ancient gaffer once I knew,
    Who puffed a pipe and tossed a tankard;He claimed a hundred years or two,
  • 716.  
    Though I defy the howling horde
    As bloody-browed I smite,Back to the wall with shattered sword
  • 717.  
    He wrote a letter in his mind
    To answer one a maid had sent;He sought the fitting word to find,
  • 718.  
    Three Holies sat in sacred place
    And quaffed celestial wine,As they discussed the human race
  • 719.  
    He used to say: There ain't a doubt
    Misfortune is a bitter pill,But if you only pry it out
  • 720.  
    What puts me in a rage is
    The sight of cursed cagesWhere singers of the sky
  • 721.  
    Say! You've struck a heap of trouble-
    Bust in business, lost your wife;No one cares a cent about you,
  • 722.  
    When a girl's sixteen, and as poor as she's pretty,
    And she hasn't a friend and she hasn't a home,Heigh-ho! She's as safe in Paris city
  • 723.  
    His frown brought terror to his foes,
    But now in twilight of his daysThe pure perfection of a rose
  • 724.  
    Bob Briggs went in for Government,
    And helps to run the State;Some day they say he'll represent
  • 725.  
    In the little Crimson Manual it's written plain and clear
    That who would wear the scarlet coat shall say good-bye to fear;Shall be a guardian of the right, a sleuth-hound of the trail-
  • 726.  
    Cinderella in the street
    In a ragged gown,Sloven slippers on her feet,
  • 727.  
    Drunk or sober Uncle Jim
    Played the boy;Never glum or sour or grim,
  • 728.  
    It's a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass,
    When even the worst is said.There's a smile and a tear, a sigh and a cheer,
  • 729.  
    The Princess was of ancient line,
    Of royal race was she;Like cameo her face was fine,
  • 730.  
    They must not wed the Doctor said,
    For they were far from strong,And children of their marriage bed
  • 731.  
    Said darling daughter unto me:
    “oh Dad, how funny it would beIf you had gone to Mexico
  • 732.  
    It's easy to fight when everything's right,
    And you're mad with the thrill and the glory;It's easy to cheer when victory's near,
  • 733.  
    I knew three sisters,-all were sweet;
    Wishful to wed was I,And wondered which would mostly meet
  • 734.  
    A mattock high he swung;
    I watched him at his toil;With never gulp of lung
  • 735.  
    O meadow lark, so wild and free,
    It cannot be, it cannot be,That men to merchandise your spell
  • 736.  
    If dogs could speak, O Mademoiselle,
    What funny stories they could tell!For instance, take your little “peke,”
  • 737.  

  • 738.  
    My brother Jim's a millionaire,
    while I have scarce a penny;His face is creased with lines of care,
  • 739.  
    A Wintertide we had been wed
    When Jan went off to sea;And now the laurel rose is red
  • 740.  
    I draw sweet air
    Deeply and long,As pure as prayer,
  • 741.  
    Of all the meals that glad my day
    My morning one's the best;Purveyed me on a silver tray,
  • 742.  
    One spoke: “Come, let us gaily go
    With laughter, love and lust,Since in a century or so
  • 743.  
    Elisabeth imagines I've
    A yellow streakShe deems I have no dash and drive,
  • 744.  
    She phoned them when the Round was Eight:
    ‘How is my Joe?' they heard her say.They answered: ‘Gee! He's going great,
  • 745.  
    Behold! I'm old; my hair is white;
    My eighty years are in the offing,And sitting by the fire to-night
  • 746.  
    I like to think that when I fall,
    A rain-drop in Death's shoreless sea,This shelf of books along the wall,
  • 747.  
    I keep collecting books I know
    I'll never, never read;My wife and daughter tell me so,
  • 748.  
    I am a mild man, you'll agree,
    But red my rage is,When folks who borrow books from me
  • 749.  
    I wonder ‘oo and wot ‘e was,
    That ‘Un I got so slick.I couldn't see ‘is face because
  • 750.  
    The mule-skinner was Bill Jerome, the passengers were three;
    Two tinhorns from the dives of Nome, and Father Tim McGee.And as for sunny Southland bound, through weary woods they sped,
Total 831 poems written by Robert Service

Poem of the day

Dusk In War Time
 by Sara Teasdale

A half-hour more and you will lean
To gather me close in the old sweet way-
But oh, to the woman over the sea
Who will come at the close of day?

A half-hour more and I will hear
The key in the latch and the strong, quick tread-
But oh, the woman over the sea

Read complete poem

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