Truth poems
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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.
The Ballad Of Gum-Boot Ben
© Robert William Service
He was an old prospector with a vision bleared and dim.
He asked me for a grubstake, and the same I gave to him.
He hinted of a hidden trove, and when I made so bold
To question his veracity, this is the tale he told.
The World's All Right
© Robert William Service
Be honest, kindly, simple, true;
Seek good in all, scorn but pretence;
Whatever sorrow come to you,
Believe in Life's Beneficence!
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. . . .
The Mole
© Robert William Service
Said he: "I'll dive deep in the Past,
And write a book of direful days
When summer skies were overcast
With smoke of humble hearths ablaze;
Amateur Poet
© Robert William Service
You see that sheaf of slender books
Upon the topmost shelf,
At which no browser ever looks,
Because they're by . . . myself;
Sinister Sooth
© Robert William Service
For faces I had thought were gay
I saw were lined with care,
While strange corruption and decay
Surprised me everywhere:
Dismayed I put my specs away,--
Such truth I could not bear.
My Ancestors
© Robert William Service
A barefoot boy I went to school
To save a cobbler's fee,
For though the porridge pot was full
A frugal folk were we;
We baked our bannocks, spun our wool,
And counted each bawbee.
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.
I'm Scared Of It All
© Robert William Service
To be forming good habits up there;
To be starving on rabbits up there;
In your hunger and woe,
Though it's sixty below,
Oh, I know that it's safer up there!
My Book
© Robert William Service
Before I drink myself to death,
God, let me finish up my Book!
At night, I fear, I fight for breath,
And wake up whiter than a spook;
And crawl off to a bistro near,
And drink until my brain is clear.
Lucille
© Robert William Service
Oh, the Prince was glad, I could soon see that, and the Princess she was too;
And Lucille waltzed round on the tablecloth as she often used to do.
And the Prince pulled out a purse of gold, and he put it in my hand;
And he says: "It was worth all that, I'm told, to stay in that nasty land."
And then he turned with a sudden cry, and he clutched at his royal beard;
And the Princess screamed, and well she might -- for Lucille had disappeared.
Poor Kid
© Robert William Service
Mumsie and Dad are raven dark
And I am lily blonde.
''Tis strange,' I once heard nurse remark,
'You do not correspond.'
And yet they claim me as their own,
Born of their flesh and bone.
Einstein
© Robert William Service
A little mousey man he was
With board, and chalk in hand;
And millions were awestruck because
They couldn't understand.
Said he: 'E equals Mc2:
I'll prove it true.'
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."
O Lovely Lie
© Robert William Service
I told a truth, a tragic truth
That tore the sullen sky;
A million shuddered at my sooth
And anarchist was I.
A Song Of Success
© Robert William Service
Ho! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave.
Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight.
All that was best in us gladly we gave,
Sprang from the rally, and leapt for the height.
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."
Old Scout
© Robert William Service
Is it because I'm bent and grey,
Though wearing rather well,
That I can slickly get away
With all the yarns I tell?
Ignorance
© Robert William Service
Oh happy he who cannot see
With scientific eyes;
Who does not know how flowers grow,
And is not planet wise;
