Robert William Service (16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)
My Master is a man of might
With manners like a hog;
He makes me slave from morn to night
And treats me like a dog.
He thinks there's nothing on this earth
His money cannot buy,
And claims to get full wages worth
From hirelings such as I.
But does he? Though a Man of State,
And fabulously rich,
He little guesses that his mate
Is just a bonny bitch.
For he is grey and gross and fat,
While I am tall and slim,
And when he's gone it happens that
I take the place of him.
Oh God! The beauty of the blow
When I will blast his life;
When I will laugh and let him know
My mistress is his wife.
Today a doormat for his feet,
He loves to see me squirm . . .
Tomorrow,--how revenge is sweet!
The turning of the worm.
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