Because I was a wonton wild
And welcomed many a lover,
Who is the father of my child
I wish I could discover.
For though I know it is not right
In tender arms to tarry,
A barmaid has to be polite
To Tom and Dick and Harry.
My truest love was Poacher Jim:
I wish my babe was his’n.
Yet I can’t father it on him
Because he was in prison.
As uniforms I like, I had
A soldier and a sailor;
Then there was Pete the painter lad,
And Timothy the tailor.
Though virtue hurt you vice ain’t nice;
They say to err is human;
Alas! one pays a bitter price,
It’s hell to be a woman.
Oh dear! Why was I born a lass
Who hated to say: No, sir.
I’d better in my sorry pass
Blame Mister Simms, the grocer.
(Robert William Service)
More Poetry from Robert William Service:
Robert William Service Poems based on Topics: Love, Woman, Fathers, Soldiers, Drawing & Painting- Fighting Mac (Robert William Service Poems)
- If You Had The Choice Of Two Women To Wed (Robert William Service Poems)
- (The sunshine seeks my little room) (Robert William Service Poems)
- Willie (Robert William Service Poems)
- Milking Time (Robert William Service Poems)
- The Widow (Robert William Service Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Woman Poems, Fathers Poems, Soldiers Poems, Drawing & Painting PoemsBased on Keywords: tailor, grocer, pete, uniforms, polite, his, poacher, barmaid, simms, wonton