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Robert W. Service

Robert W. Service

Les Grands Mutiles

I saw three wounded of the war:
And the first had lost his eyes;
And the second went on wheels and had
No legs below the thighs;
And the face of the third was featureless,
And his mouth ran cornerwise.
So I made a rhyme about each one,
And this is how my fancies run.

#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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Altre opere di Robert W. Service...
The Rover

Oh, how good it is to be Foot—loose and heart—free! Just my dog and pipe and I, under… Trail to try and goal to win, whit… Fields to lure a lad afar, clear s…
The Buyers

Father drank himself to death,— Quite enjoyed it. Urged to draw a sober breath He’d avoid it. ‘Save your sympathy,’ said Dad;
Rover's Rest

By parents I would not be pinned, Nor in my home abide, For I was wanton as the wind And tameless as the tide; So scornful of domestic hearth,
The Goat and I

Each sunny day upon my way A goat I pass; He has a beard of silver grey, A bell of brass. And all the while I am in sight
Tranquilism

I call myself a Tranquilist; With deep detachment I exist, From friction free; While others court the gilded thro… And worship Women, Wine and Song…
God's Grief

“Lord God of Hosts,” the people p… “Make strong our arms that we may… Our cursed foe and win the day.” “Lord God of Battles,” cries the… “Guide us to strike a bloody blow,
The Key of the Street

“Miss Rosemary,” I dourly said, “Our balance verges on the red, We must cut down our overhead. One of the staff will have to go. There’s Mister Jones, he’s mighty…
Song of the Sardine

A fat man sat in an orchestra stal… As he gazed at the primadonna tall… “Oh don’t you remember” he murmure… When hand in hand we used to go to… Ah me those days so gay and glad,…
The Telegraph Operator

I will not wash my face; I will not brush my hair; I “pig” around the place— There’s nobody to care. Nothing but rock and tree;
Beak-Bashing Boy

But yesterday I banked on fistic… Figgerin’ I’d be a champion of th… Today I’ve half a mind to quit th… For all them rosy dreams have take… Since last night a secondary bout
 1
My Dog

My Dog 'Twas in a pub just off the Stran… When I was in my cups, There passed a bloke with in his h… Two tiny puling pups;
Finistere

Hurrah! I’m off to Finistere, to… My satchel’s swinging on my back,… I’ve twenty louis in my purse, I… And so I’m starting out to—day to… I’ll go alone and glorying, with o…
The Scribe's Prayer

When from my fumbling hand the tir… And in the twilight weary droops m… While to my quiet heart a still vo… Calls me to join my kindred of the… Grant that I may, O Lord, ere re…
My Favourite Fan

My Favourite Fan Being a writer I receive Sweet screeds from folk of every l… Some are so weird you’d scarce bel… And some quite hard to understand:
At the Parade

I cannot flap a flag Or beat a drum; Behind the mob I lag With larynx dumb; Alas! I fear I’m not



Alto