Robert William Service

(16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)

Seville - Poem by Robert William Service

My Pa and Ma their honeymoon
Passed in an Andulasian June,
And though produced in Drury Lane,
I must have been conceived in Spain.
Now having lapsed from fair estate,
A coster's is my sorry fate;
Yet on my barrow lo! I wheel
The golden harvest of Saville.

"Sweet Spanish oranges!" I cry.
Ah! People deem not as they buy,
That in a dream a steel guitar
I strum beside the Alcázar,
And at the Miralda I meet
A signorita honey sweet,
And stroll beneath the silver moon
Like Pa and Ma that magic June.

Alack-a-day! I fear I'll never
Behold the golden Guadalquivir;
Yet here in Brixton how I feel
My spiritual home's Saville;
And hold the hope that some day I
Will visit there, if just to die;
Feeling I have not lived in vain
To crown my days in sunny Spain.

Comments about Seville by Robert William Service

  • Rookie - 0 Points Owen Leech (9/8/2015 1:08:00 PM)

    Doesn't exactly conjur up images of the great Andalusian city, does it? ... He can't he spell Seville... Miralda? Does he mean La Giralda? ? And 'signorita'.... really? (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: june, guitar, sorry, magic, silver, fate, moon, dream, fear, people, hope, home

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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