Sympathy poems

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The Buyers

© Robert William Service

Father drank himself to death,--
Quite enjoyed it.
Urged to draw a sober breath
He'd avoid it.

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.

Because I have ten thousand pounds I sit upon my stern,
And leave my living tranquilly for other folks to earn.
For in some procreative way that isn't very clear,
Ten thousand pounds will breed, they say, five hundred every year.

My Trinity

© Robert William Service

For all good friends who care to read,
here let me lyre my living creed . . .One: you may deem me Pacifist,
For I've no sympathy with strife.
Like hell I hate the iron fist,

The Macaronis

© Robert William Service

Italian people peaceful are,--
Let it be to their credit.
They mostly fail to win a war,
--Oh they themselves have said it.

The Man From Eldorado

© Robert William Service

He's the man from Eldorado, and he's just arrived in town,
In moccasins and oily buckskin shirt.
He's gaunt as any Indian, and pretty nigh as brown;
He's greasy, and he smells of sweat and dirt.

Noctambule

© Robert William Service

Pair of dapper chaps,
Cigarettes and sashes,
Stare at me, perhaps
Desperate Apachès.

Romance

© Robert William Service

In Paris on a morn of May
I sent a radio transalantic
To catch a steamer on the way,
But oh the postal fuss was frantic;

My Picture

© Robert William Service

I made a picture; all my heart
I put in it, and all I knew
Of canvas-cunning and of Art,
Of tenderness and passion true.

The God Of Common-Sense

© Robert William Service

My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense:
"Its takes a hair-brush back," said he, "to teach kids common-sense."
And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face.
Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place.

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?

Window Shopper

© Robert William Service

I stood before a candy shop
Which with a Christmas radiance shone;
I saw my parents pass and stop
To grin at me and then go on.

Sympathy

My Muse is simple,--yet it's nice
To think you don't need to think twice
On words I write.
I reckon I've a common touch
And if you say I cuss too much
I answer: 'Quite!'

Toilet Seats

While I am emulating Keats
My brother fabrics toilet seats,
The which, they say, are works of art,
Aesthetic features of the mart;

Sympathy

If I were only a little puppy, not your baby, mother dear, would
you say "No" to me if I tried to eat from your dish?
Would you drive me off, saying to me, "Get away, you naughty
little puppy?"

Paradise Lost: Book 10

© John Milton

Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve,
Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit,

Paradise Lost: Book 04

© John Milton

O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be revenged on men,