All Poems
/ page 2754 of 3210 /Reptiles And Roses
© Robert William Service
So crystal clear it is to me
That when I die I cease to be,
All else seems sheer stupidity.
The Quest
© Robert William Service
I sought Him on the purple seas,
I sought Him on the peaks aflame;
Amid the gloom of giant trees
And canyons lone I called His name;
The wasted ways of earth I trod:
In vain! In vain! I found not God.
Bindle Stiff
© Robert William Service
When I was brash and gallant-gay
Just fifty years ago,
I hit the ties and beat my way
From Maine to Mexico;
The Centenarian
© Robert William Service
Great Grandfather was ninety-nine
And so it was our one dread,
That though his health was superfine
He'd fail to make the hundred.
Balloon
© Robert William Service
I bought my little grandchild Ann
A bright balloon,
And I was such a happy man
To hear her croon.
Good-Bye, Little Cabin
© Robert William Service
O dear little cabin, I've loved you so long,
And now I must bid you good-bye!
I've filled you with laughter, I've thrilled you with song,
And sometimes I've wished I could cry.
Repentance
© Robert William Service
"If you repent," the Parson said,"
Your sins will be forgiven.
Aye, even on your dying bed
You're not too late for heaven."
A Little Prayer
© Robert William Service
Let us be thankful, Lord, for little things -
The song of birds, the rapture of the rose;
Cloud-dappled skies, the laugh of limpid springs,
Drowned sunbeams and the perfume April blows;
Bronze wheat a-shimmer, purple shade of trees -
Let us be thankful, Lord of Life, for these!
Retired
© Robert William Service
I used to sing, when I was young,
The joy of idleness;
But now I'm grey I hold my tongue,
For frankly I confess
Wonder
© Robert William Service
For failure I was well equipped
And should have come to grief,
By atavism grimly gripped,
A fool beyond belief.
The Spirit Of The Unborn Babe
© Robert William Service
The Spirit of the Unborn Babe peered through the window-pane,
Peered through the window-pane that glowed like beacon in the night;
For, oh, the sky was desolate and wild with wind and rain;
And how the little room was crammed with coziness and light!
The Wonderer
© Robert William Service
I wish that I could understand
The moving marvel of my Hand;
I watch my fingers turn and twist,
The supple bending of my wrist,
Domestic Scene
© Robert William Service
The meal was o'er, the lamp was lit,
The family sat in its glow;
The Mother never ceased to knit,
The Daughter never slacked to sew;
Oh, It Is Good
© Robert William Service
Oh, it is good to drink and sup,
And then beside the kindly fire
To smoke and heap the faggots up,
And rest and dream to heart's desire.
A Domestic Tragedy
© Robert William Service
Clorinda met me on the way
As I came from the train;
Her face was anything but gay,
In fact, suggested pain.
Horatio
© Robert William Service
His portrait hung upon the wall.
Oh how at us he used to stare.
Each Sunday when I made my call! --
And when one day it wasn't there,
Quite quick I seemed to understand
The light was green to hold her hand.
Dylan
© Robert William Service
And is it not a gesture grand
To drink oneself to death?
Oh sure 'tis I can understand,
Being of sober breath.
Lowly Laureate
© Robert William Service
O Sacred Muse, my lyre excuse! -
My verse is vagrant singing;
Rhyme I invoke for simple folk
Of penny-wise upbringing:
Einstein
© Robert William Service
A little mousey man he was
With board, and chalk in hand;
And millions were awestruck because
They couldn't understand.
Said he: 'E equals Mc2:
I'll prove it true.'
Tick-Tock
© Robert William Service
Tick-tocking in my ear
My dollar clock I hear.
'Arise,' it seems to say:
'Behold another day