Love poems

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The Ballad Of Lenin's Tomb

© Robert William Service

This is the yarn he told me
As we sat in Casey's Bar,
That Rooshun mug who scammed from the jug
In the Land of the Crimson Star;
That Soviet guy with the single eye,
And the face like a flaming scar.

Lindy Lou

© Robert William Service

If the good King only knew,
Lindy Lou,
What a cherub child are you,
It is true,

The Answer

© Robert William Service

Bill has left his house of clay,
Slammed the door and gone away:
How he laughed but yesterday!

The Philanderer

© Robert William Service

Oh, have you forgotten those afternoons
With riot of roses and amber skies,
When we thrilled to the joy of a million Junes,
And I sought for your soul in the deeps of your eyes?

Kelly Of The Legion

© Robert William Service

"The scourings of creation,
Of every sin and station,
The men who've known damnation,
Are picked to lead the way."

Ghosts

© Robert William Service

I to a crumpled cabin came
upon a hillside high,
And with me was a withered dame
As weariful as I.

The Outlaw

© Robert William Service

A wild and woeful race he ran
Of lust and sin by land and sea;
Until, abhorred of God and man,
They swung him from the gallows-tree.

A Snifter

© Robert William Service

After working hard all day
In the office,
How much worse on homeward way
My old cough is!

It was the steamer Alice May that sailed the Yukon foam.
And touched in every river camp from Dawson down to Nome.
It was her builder, owner, pilot, Captain Silas Geer,
Who took her through the angry ice, the last boat of the year;

Lip-Stick Liz

© Robert William Service

Oh Lip-Stick Liz was in the biz, That's the oldest known in history;
She had a lot of fancy rags, Of her form she made no myst'ry.
She had a man, a fancy man, His name was Alexander,
And he used to beat her up because he couldn't understand her.

The Faceless Man

© Robert William Service

I'm dead.
Officially I'm dead. Their hope is past.
How long I stood as missing! Now, at last
I'm dead.

Breath Is Enough

© Robert William Service

I draw sweet air
Deeply and long,
As pure as prayer,
As sweet as song.

Maids In May

© Robert William Service

Three maids there were in meadow bright,
The eldest less then seven;
Their eyes were dancing with delight,
And innocent as Heaven.

Playboy

© Robert William Service

I greet the challenge of the dawn
With weary, bleary eyes;
Into the sky so ashen wan
I wait the sun to rise;

A Song Of The Sandbags

No, Bill, I'm not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh
(The cove be'ind the sandbags ain't a death-or-glory cuss).
And though I strafes 'em good and 'ard I doesn't 'ate the Boche,
I guess they're mostly decent, just the same as most of us.

Suppose?

It's mighty nice at shut of day
With weariness to hit the hey,
To close your eyes, tired through and through,
And just forget that "you are you."

The Old General

Little Annabelle to please,
(Lacking grace, I grant),
Grandpa down on hands and knees
Plays the elephant.

The Ballad Of The Leather Medal

Only a Leather Medal, hanging there on the wall,
Dingy and frayed and faded, dusty and worn and old;
Yet of my humble treasures I value it most of all,
And I wouldn't part with that medal if you gave me its weight in gold.

Sea Sorcery

Oh how I love the laughing sea,
Sun lances splintering;
Or with a virile harmony
In salty caves to sing;

Mactavish

I do not write for love of pelf,
Nor lust for phantom fame;
I do not rhyme to please myself,
Nor yet to win acclaim: