Robert William Service Poems on Thought & Thinking (101 Poems)

The Ballad Of Lenin’s Tomb (Robert William Service Poems)

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 … Continue reading →

Fleurette (Robert William Service Poems)

(The Wounded Canadian Speaks) My leg? It’s off at the knee. Do I miss it? Well, some. You see I’ve had it since I was born; And lately a devilish corn. (I rather chuckle with glee To think how I’ve … Continue reading →

My Hundred Books (Robert William Service Poems)

A thousand books my library Contains; And all are primed, it seems to me With brains. Mine are so few I scratch in thought My head; For just a hundred of the lot I’ve read. A hundred books, but of … Continue reading →

The Dreamer (Robert William Service Poems)

The lone man gazed and gazed upon his gold, His sweat, his blood, the wage of weary days; But now how sweet, how doubly sweet to hold All gay and gleamy to the campfire blaze. The evening sky was sinister … Continue reading →

The Judgement (Robert William Service Poems)

The Judge looked down, his face was grim, He scratched his ear; The gangster’s moll looked up at him With eyes of fear. She thought: ‘This guy in velvet gown, With balding pate, Who now on me is looking down, … Continue reading →

His Boys (Robert William Service Poems)

“I’m going, Billy, old fellow. Hist, lad! Don’t make any noise. There’s Boches to beat all creation, the pitch of a bomb away. I’ve fixed the note to your collar, you’ve got to get back to my Boys, You’ve got … Continue reading →

L’Envoi (Robert William Service Poems)

Ever in the ebb and flow Of my dreams that come and go, Reader, I have you in mind, Humbly hoping you will find In my verse a gleam that’s true To the dreams that live in you. Though my … Continue reading →

Pipe Smoker (Robert William Service Poems)

Because I love the soothing weed And am of sober type, I’d choose me for a friend in need A man who smokes a pipe. A cove who hasn’t much to say, And spits into the fire, Puffing like me … Continue reading →

Apollo Belvedere (Robert William Service Poems)

A-sitttin’ on a cracker box an’ spittin’ in the stove, I took a sudden notion that I’d kindo’ like to rove; An’ so I bought a ticket, jest as easy as could be, From Pumpkinville in Idaho to Rome in … Continue reading →

Gypsy Jill (Robert William Service Poems)

They’re hanging Bill at eight o’ clock, And millions will applaud. He killed, and so they have to kill, Such is the will of God. His brother Tom is on my bed To keep me comforted. I see his bleary, … Continue reading →