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/ page 413 of 465 /The Ballad Of Casey's Billy-Goat
© Robert William Service
You've heard of "Casey at The Bat,"
And "Casey's Tabble Dote";
But now it's time
To write a rhyme
Of "Casey's Billy-goat."
My House
© Robert William Service
I have a house I've lived in long:
I can't recall my going in.
'Twere better bartered for a song
Ere ruin, rot and rust begin.
Making Good
© Robert William Service
No man can be a failure if he thinks he's a success;
he may not own his roof-tree overhead,
He may be on his uppers and have hocked his evening dress -
(Financially speaking - in the red)
My Childhood God
© Robert William Service
When I was small the Lord appeared
Unto my mental eye
A gentle giant with a beard
Who homed up in the sky.
Young Fellow My Lad
© Robert William Service
"Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,
On this glittering morn of May?"
"I'm going to join the Colours, Dad;
They're looking for men, they say."
The Wistful One
© Robert William Service
I sought the trails of South and North,
I wandered East and West;
But pride and passion drove me forth
And would not let me rest.
Tim
© Robert William Service
My brother Tim has children ten,
While I have none.
Maybe that's why he's toiling when
To ease I've won.
Schizophrenic
© Robert William Service
Each morning as I catch my bus,
A-fearing I'll be late,
I think: there are in all of us
Two folks quite separate;
Rosy-Kins
© Robert William Service
As home from church we two did plod,
"Grandpa," said Rosy, "What is God?"
Seeking an answer to her mind,
This is the best that I could find. . . .
Old Tom
© Robert William Service
The harridan who holds the inn
At which I toss a pot,
Is old and uglier than sin,--
I'm glad she knows me not.
The Wife
© Robert William Service
"Tell Annie I'll be home in time
To help her with her Christmas-tree."
That's what he wrote, and hark! the chime
Of Christmas bells, and where is he?
And how the house is dark and sad,
And Annie's sobbing on my knee!
Ant Hill
© Robert William Service
Black ants have made a musty mound
My purple pine tree under,
And I am often to be found,
Regarding it with wonder.
The Idealist
© Robert William Service
Oh you who have daring deeds to tell!
And you who have felt Ambition's spell!
Have you heard of the louse who longed to dwell
In the golden hair of a queen?
Captivity
© Robert William Service
O meadow lark, so wild and free,
It cannot be, it cannot be,
That men to merchandise your spell
Do close you in a wicker hell!
Sentimental Hangman
© Robert William Service
And sittin' in the pub o' night
I hears that prison bell,
And wonders if it's reely right
To haste a man to hell,
The Wanderlust
© Robert William Service
The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
Six Feet Of Sod
© Robert William Service
This is the end of all my ways,
My wanderings on earth,
My gloomy and my golden days,
My madness and my mirth.
Tourist
© Robert William Service
To Italy a random tour
I took to crown my education,
Returning relatively poor
In purse yet rich in conversation.
Sunshine
© Robert William Service
Flat as a drum-head stretch the haggard snows;
The mighty skies are palisades of light;
The stars are blurred; the silence grows and grows;
Vaster and vaster vaults the icy night.
Here in my sleeping-bag I cower and pray:
"Silence and night, have pity! stoop and slay."
Shakespeare And Cervantes
© Robert William Service
Is it not strange that on this common date,
Two titans of their age, aye of all Time,
Together should renounce this mortal state,
And rise like gods, unsullied and sublime?
Should mutually render up the ghost,
And hand n hand join Jove's celestial host?