Car poems
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Brother Jim
© Robert William Service
My brother Jim's a millionaire,
while I have scarce a penny;
His face is creased with lines of care,
While my mug hasn't any.
Each Day A Life
© Robert William Service
I count each day a little life,
With birth and death complete;
I cloister it from care and strife
And keep it sane and sweet.
Bessie's Boil
© Robert William Service
Says I to my Missis: "Ba goom, lass! you've something I see, on your mind."
Says she: "You are right, Sam, I've something. It 'appens it's on me be'ind.
A Boil as 'ud make Job jealous. It 'urts me no end when I sit."
Says I: "Go to 'ospittel, Missis. They might 'ave to coot it a bit."
Says she: "I just 'ate to be showin' the part of me person it's at."
Says I: "Don't be fussy; them doctors see sights more 'orrid than that."
Cheer
© Robert William Service
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,
But better be living than dead;
Virginity
© Robert William Service
My mother she had children five and four are dead and gone;
While I, least worthy to survive, persist in living on.
She looks at me, I must confess, sometimes with spite and bitterness.
Humility
© Robert William Service
My virtues in Carara stone
Cut carefully you all my scan;
Beneath I lie, a fetid bone,
The marble worth more than the man.
Intolerance
© Robert William Service
I have no brief for gambling, nay
The notion I express
That money earned 's the only way
To pay for happiness.
Spartan Mother
© Robert William Service
My mother loved her horses and
Her hounds of pedigree;
She did not kiss the baby hand
I held to her in glee.
Cinderella
© Robert William Service
Cinderella in the street
In a ragged gown,
Sloven slippers on her feet,
Shames our tidy town;
My Garden
© Robert William Service
The world is sadly sick, they say,
And plagued by woe and pain.
But look! How looms my garden gay,
With blooms in golden reign!
The Shooting Of Dan McGrew
© Robert William Service
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
Rhyme-Smith
© Robert William Service
Oh, yes, my lyric flight is flighty;
My muse is much more mite than mighty:
But poetry has been my friend,
And rhyming's saved me in the end.
Carry On
© Robert William Service
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,
And wallow in fields that are gory.
My Boss
© Robert William Service
My Boss keeps sporty girls, they say;
His belly's big with cheer.
He squanders in a single day
What I make in a year.
Little Brother
© Robert William Service
Wars have been and wars will be
Till the human race is run;
Battles red by land and sea,
Never peace beneath the sun.
The Mother
© Robert William Service
Your children grow from you apart,
Afar and still afar;
And yet it should rejoice your heart
To see how glad they are;
Courage
© Robert William Service
Not for myself I care
As forth I fare;
But for those left behind
Wae is my mind
Knowing how they will miss
My careless kiss.
I Have Some Friends
© Robert William Service
I have some friends, some worthy friends,
And worthy friends are rare:
These carpet slippers on my feet,
That padded leather chair;
This old and shabby dressing-gown,
So well the worse of wear.
If You Had A Friend
© Robert William Service
If you had a friend strong, simple, true,
Who knew your faults and who understood;
Who believed in the very best of you,
And who cared for you as a father would;
Necrological
© John Crowe Ransom
The friar had said his paternosters duly
And scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept;
But with much riddling his head became unruly,
He arose, from the quiet monastery he crept.
