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207 Works of Robert W. Service

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Teddy Bear

Story type: Poetry

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O Teddy Bear! with your head awryAnd your comical twisted smile,You rub your eyes–do you wonder whyYou’ve slept such a long, long while?As you lay so still in the cupboard dim,And you heard on the roof the rain,Were you thinking . . . what has become of him ?And when will he play again? Do […]

The Walkers

Story type: Poetry

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( He speaks. ) Walking, walking, oh, the joy of walking!Swinging down the tawny lanes with head held high;Striding up the green hills, through the heather stalking,Swishing through the woodlands where the brown leaves lie;Marveling at all things–windmills gaily turning,Apples for the cider-press, ruby-hued and gold;Tails of rabbits twinkling, scarlet berries burning,Wedge of geese high-flying […]

Brave Thackeray has trolled of days when he was twenty-one,And bounded up five flights of stairs, a gallant garreteer;And yet again in mellow vein when youth was gaily run,Has dipped his nose in Gascon wine, and told of Forty Year.But if I worthy were to sing a richer, rarer time,I’d tune my pipes before the […]

My Hour

Story type: Poetry

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Day after day behold me plyingMy pen within an office drear;The dullest dog, till homeward hieing,Then lo! I reign a king of cheer.A throne have I of padded leather,A little court of kiddies three,A wife who smiles whate’er the weather,A feast of muffins, jam and tea. The table cleared, a romping battle,A fairy tale, a […]

My Book

Story type: Poetry

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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. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strengthTo write and write; and so I spendDay after day, until at […]

My Masterpiece

Story type: Poetry

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It’s slim and trim and bound in blue;Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold;Its words are simple, stalwart too;Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold.Its pages scintillate with wit;Its pathos clutches at my throat:Oh, how I love each line of it!That Little Book I Never Wrote. In dreams I see it praised and prizedBy […]

The Petit Vieux

Story type: Poetry

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“Sow your wild oats in your youth,” so we’re always told;But I say with deeper sooth: “Sow them when you’re old.”I’ll be wise till I’m about seventy or so:Then, by Gad! I’ll blossom out as an ancient beau. I’ll assume a dashing air, laugh with loud Ha! ha! . . .How my grandchildren will stare […]

Old David Smail

Story type: Poetry

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He dreamed away his hours in school;He sat with such an absent air,The master reckoned him a fool,And gave him up in dull despair. When other lads were making hayYou’d find him loafing by the stream;He’d take a book and slip away,And just pretend to fish . . . and dream. His brothers passed him […]

Finistere

Story type: Poetry

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Hurrah! I’m off to Finistere, to Finistere, to Finistere;My satchel’s swinging on my back, my staff is in my hand;I’ve twenty louis in my purse, I know the sun and sea are there,And so I’m starting out to-day to tramp the golden land.I’ll go alone and glorying, with on my lips a song of joy;I’ll […]

If you had a friend strong, simple, true,Who knew your faults and who understood;Who believed in the very best of you,And who cared for you as a father would;Who would stick by you to the very end,Who would smile however the world might frown:I’m sure you would try to please your friend,You never would think […]

The Spirit of the Unborn Babe peered through the window-pane,Peered through the window-pane that glowed like beacon in the night;For, oh, the sky was desolate and wild with wind and rain;And how the little room was crammed with coziness and light!Except the flirting of the fire there was no sound at all;The Woman sat beside […]

The Wistful One

Story type: Poetry

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I sought the trails of South and North,I wandered East and West;But pride and passion drove me forthAnd would not let me rest. And still I seek, as still I roam,A snug roof overhead;Four walls, my own; a quiet home. . . .“You’ll have it– when you’re dead.”

Catastrophe

Story type: Poetry

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Brittany, August 14, 1914. And now I fear I must write in another strain. Up to this time I have been too happy. I have existed in a magic Bohemia, largely of my own making. Hope, faith, enthusiasm have been mine. Each day has had its struggle, its failure, its triumph. However, that is all […]

Poor Peter

Story type: Poetry

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Blind Peter Piper used to playAll up and down the city;I’d often meet him on my way,And throw a coin for pity.But all amid his sparkling tonesHis ear was quick as anyTo catch upon the cobble-stonesThe jingle of my penny. And as upon a day that shoneHe piped a merry measure:“How well you play!” I […]

The Other One

Story type: Poetry

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“Gather around me, children dear;The wind is high and the night is cold;Closer, little ones, snuggle near;Let’s seek a story of ages old;A magic tale of a bygone day,Of lovely ladies and dragons dread;Come, for you’re all so tired of play,We’ll read till it’s time to go to bed.” So they all are glad, and […]

The Comforter

Story type: Poetry

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As I sat by my baby’s bedThat’s open to the sky,There fluttered round and round my headA radiant butterfly. And as I wept–of hearts that acheThe saddest in the land–It left a lily for my sake,And lighted on my hand. I watched it, oh, so quietly,And though it rose and flew,As if it fain would […]

I have some friends, some worthy friends,And worthy friends are rare:These carpet slippers on my feet,That padded leather chair;This old and shabby dressing-gown,So well the worse of wear. I have some friends, some honest friends,And honest friends are few;My pipe of briar, my open fire,A book that’s not too new;My bed so warm, the nights […]

Oh, It Is Good

Story type: Poetry

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Oh, it is good to drink and sup,And then beside the kindly fireTo smoke and heap the faggots up,And rest and dream to heart’s desire. Oh, it is good to ride and run,To roam the greenwood wild and free;To hunt, to idle in the sun,To leap into the laughing sea. Oh, it is good with […]

The Twa Jocks

Story type: Poetry

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Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gleska tae Hecky MacCrimmon frae Skye:“That’s whit I hate maist aboot fechtin’–it makes ye sae deevilish dry;Noo jist hae a keek at yon ferm-hoose them Gairmans are poundin’ sae fine,Weel, think o’ it, doon in the dunnie there’s bottles and bottles o’ wine.A’ hell’s fairly belchin’ oot yonner, but oh, lad, […]

The Wonderer

Story type: Poetry

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I wish that I could understandThe moving marvel of my Hand;I watch my fingers turn and twist,The supple bending of my wrist,The dainty touch of finger-tip,The steel intensity of grip;A tool of exquisite design,With pride I think: “It’s mine! It’s mine!” Then there’s the wonder of my Eyes,Where hills and houses, seas and skies,In waves […]