Poems begining by A
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Adoption
© Robert William Service
Because I was a woman lone
And had of friends so few,
I made two little ones my own,
Whose parents no one knew;
A Song For Kilts
© Robert William Service
How grand the human race would be
If every man would wear a kilt,
A flirt of Tartan finery,
Instead of trousers, custom built!
A Bachelor
© Robert William Service
'Why keep a cow when I can buy,'
Said he, 'the milk I need,'
I wanted to spit in his eye
Of selfishness and greed;
But did not, for the reason he
Was stronger than I be.
Aunt Jane
© Robert William Service
When Aunt Jane died we hunted round,
And money everywhere we found.
How much I do not care to say,
But no death duties will we pay,
And Aunt Jane will be well content
We bilked the bloody Government.
Anti-Profanity
© Robert William Service
I do not swear because I am
A sweet and sober guy;
I cannot vent a single damn
However hard I try.
A Grain Of Sand
© Robert William Service
If starry space no limit knows
And sun succeeds to sun,
There is no reason to suppose
Our earth the only one.
Ambition
© Robert William Service
They brought the mighty chief to town;
They showed him strange, unwonted sights;
Yet as he wandered up and down,
He seemed to scorn their vain delights.
A Character
© Robert William Service
How often do I wish I were
What people call a character;
A ripe and cherubic old chappie
Who lives to make his fellows happy;
A Song Of Winter Weather
© Robert William Service
It isn't the foe that we fear;
It isn't the bullets that whine;
It isn't the business career
Of a shell, or the bust of a mine;
A Song Of Suicide
© Robert William Service
Deeming that I were better dead,
"How shall I kill myself?" I said.
Thus mooning by the river Seine
I sought extinction without pain,
A Verseman's Apology
© Robert William Service
Alas! I am only a rhymer,
I don't know the meaning of Art;
But I learned in my little school primer
To love Eugene Field and Bret Harte.
Adventure
© Robert William Service
Out of the wood my White Knight came:
His eyes were bright with a bitter flame,
As I clung to his stirrup leather;
For I was only a dreaming lad,
Abandoned Dog
© Robert William Service
I found it prone upon the way;
Of life was little token.
As limply in the dust it lay
I thought its heart was broken:
Then one dim eye it opened and
It sought to like my hand.
A Lyric Day
© Robert William Service
I deem that there are lyric days
So ripe with radiance and cheer,
So rich with gratitude and praise
That they enrapture all the year.
Arbol?, Arbol? . . .
© Federico Garcia Lorca
Tree, tree
dry and green.The girl with the pretty face
is out picking olives.
The wind, playboy of towers,
At The Other End Of The Telescope
© George Bradley
the people are very small and shrink,
dwarves on the way to netsuke hell
bound for a flea circus in full
retreat toward sub-atomic particles--
Authorship
© Rabindranath Tagore
You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don't
understand.
He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really
make out what he meant?
A Moments Indulgence
© Rabindranath Tagore
I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite,
and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil. Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and
the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove. Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing
