My Typewriter (Robert William Service Poems)
I used to think a pot of ink Held magic in its fluid, And I would ply a pen when ...
I used to think a pot of ink Held magic in its fluid, And I would ply a pen when ...
Between the cliff-rise and the beach A slip of emerald I own; With fig and olive, almond, peach, cherry and ...
Now Eddie Malone got a swell grammyfone to draw all the trade to his store; An' sez he: "Come along ...
God's truth! these be the bitter times. In vain I sing my sheaf of rhymes, And hold my battered hat ...
There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon, There where the sullen sun-dogs glare in the snow-bright, ...
Why need we newer arms invent, Poor peoples to destroy? With what we have let's be content And perfect their ...
The little pink house is high on the hill And my heart is not what it used to be; It ...
He stared at me with sad, hurt eyes, That drab, untidy man; And though my clients I despise I do ...
The woes of men beyond my ken Mean nothing more to me. Behold my world, and Eden hurled From Heaven ...
When first I left Blighty they gave me a bay'nit And told me it 'ad to be smothered wiv gore; ...
From wrath-red dawn to wrath-red dawn, The guns have brayed without abate; And now the sick sun looks upon The ...
He had the grocer's counter-stoop, That little man so grey and neat; His moustache had a doleful droop, He hailed ...
I am the Cannon King, behold! I perish on a throne of gold. With forest far and turret high, Renowned ...
An olive fire's a lovely thing; Somehow it makes me think of Spring As in my grate it over-spills With ...
When the boys come out from Lac Labiche in the lure of the early Spring, To take the pay of ...
Said the Door: "She came in With no shadow of sin; Turned the key in the lock, Slipped out of ...
A very humble pen I ply Beneath a cottage thatch; And in the sunny hours I try To till my ...
A Belgian Priest-Soldier Speaks; GURR! You cochon! Stand and fight! Show your mettle! Snarl and bite! Spawn of an accursed ...
For oh, when the war will be over We'll go and we'll look for our dead; We'll go when the ...
O God, take the sun from the sky! It's burning me, scorching me up. God, can't You hear my cry? ...
When a girl's sixteen, and as poor as she's pretty, And she hasn't a friend and she hasn't a home, ...
"Deny your God!" they ringed me with their spears; Blood-crazed were they, and reeking from the strife; Hell-hot their hate, ...
I call myself a Tranquilist; With deep detachment I exist, From friction free; While others court the gilded throng And ...
What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o' the world, Where the wind has the cut ...
What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead? Think ye our glory and ...
I never could imagine God: I don't suppose I ever will. Beside His altar fire I nod With senile drowsiness ...
"You're bloody right - I was a Red," The Man from Cook's morosely said. And if our chaps had won ...
We have no aspiration vain For paradise Utopian, And here in our sun-happy Spain, Though man exploit his fellow man, ...
First Ghost To sepulcher my mouldy bones I bough a pile of noble stones, And half a year a sculptor ...
His frown brought terror to his foes, But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose ...
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