Robert William Service Dark Poems

Birds have no consciousness of doom:
Yon thrush that serenades me daily
From scented snow of hawthorn bloom
Would not trill out his glee so gaily,
...

Said I to Pain: "You would not dare
Do ill to me."
Said Pain: "Poor fool! Why should I care
Whom you may be?
...

Sweet maiden, why disguise
The beauty of your eyes
With glasses black?
Although I'm well aware
...