Poems begining by D
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Dram-Shop Ditty
© Robert William Service
I drink my fill of foamy ale
I sing a song, I tell a tale,
I play the fiddle;
My throat is chronically dry,
Yet savant of a sort am I,
And Life's my riddle.
Dedication To Providence
© Robert William Service
I loved to toy with tuneful rhyme,
My fancies into verse to weave;
For as I walked my words would chime
So bell-like I could scarce believe;
Detachment
© Robert William Service
As I go forth from fair to mart
With racket ringing,
Who would divine that in my heart
Mad larks are singing.
Dumb Swede
© Robert William Service
With barbwire hooch they filled him full,
Till he was drunker than all hell,
And then they peddled him the bull
About a claim they had to sell.
Dedication
© Robert William Service
In youth I longed to paint
The loveliness I saw;
And yet by dire constraint
I had to study Law.
Death In The Arctic
© Robert William Service
I took the clock down from the shelf;
"At eight," said I, "I shoot myself."
It lacked a minute of the hour,
And as I waited all a-cower,
A skinful of black, boding pain,
Bits of my life came back again. . . .
Death And Life
© Robert William Service
'Twas in the grave-yard's gruesome gloom
That May and I were mated;
We sneaked inside and on a tomb
Our love was consummated.
Don't Cheer
© Robert William Service
Don't cheer, damn you! Don't cheer!
Silence! Your bitterest tear
Is fulsomely sweet to-day. . . .
Down on your knees and pray.
Dreams
© Robert William Service
I had a dream, a dream of dread:
I thought that horror held the house;
A burglar bent above my bed,
He moved as quiet as a mouse.
Dark Truth
© Robert William Service
Birds have no consciousness of doom:
Yon thrush that serenades me daily
From scented snow of hawthorn bloom
Would not trill out his glee so gaily,
Could he foretell his songful breath
Would sadly soon be stilled in death.
Design
© Robert William Service
"If to the millionth of a hair
Cause and Effect are welded true,
Then there's no leeway anywhere,
And all we do we have to do,
And sun and atom too."
Drifter
© Robert William Service
God gave you guts: don't let Him down;
Brace up, be worthy of His giving.
The road's a rut, the sky's a frown;
I know you're plumb fed up with living.
Fate birches you, and wry the rod . . .
Snap out, you fool! Don't let down God.
Dance-Hall Girls
© Robert William Service
Where are the dames I used to know
In Dawson in the days of yore?
Alas, it's fifty years ago,
And most, I guess, have "gone before."
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;
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.
Dyspeptic Clerk
© Robert William Service
I think I'll buy a little field,
Though scant am I of pelf,
And hold the hope that it may yield
A living for myself;
Divine Device
© Robert William Service
Would it be loss or gain
To hapless human-kind
If we could feel no pain
Of body or of mind?
Death Of A Cockroach
© Robert William Service
Said I: "Don't think I grudge you breath;
I hate to spill your greenish gore,
But why did you invite your death
By straying on my bath-room floor?"
"It is because," said he (or she),
"Adventure is my destiny.
Dark Glasses
© Robert William Service
Sweet maiden, why disguise
The beauty of your eyes
With glasses black?
Although I'm well aware
Dark Trinity
© Robert William Service
Said I to Pain: "You would not dare
Do ill to me."
Said Pain: "Poor fool! Why should I care
Whom you may be?
