Robert William Service

(16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)

Robert William Service Poems

361. My Job 1/13/2003
362. My Library 1/13/2003
363. My Madonna 1/13/2003
364. My Masterpiece 1/13/2003
365. My Masters 1/13/2003
366. My Mate 1/13/2003
367. My Neighbors 1/13/2003
368. My Picture 1/13/2003
369. My Piney Wood 1/13/2003
370. My Prisoner 1/13/2003
371. My Rival 1/13/2003
372. My Rocking-Chair 1/13/2003
373. My Room 1/13/2003
374. My Son 1/13/2003
375. My Suicide 1/13/2003
376. My Tails 1/13/2003
377. My Trinity 1/13/2003
378. My Twins 1/13/2003
379. My Typewriter 1/13/2003
380. My Vineyard 1/13/2003
381. My White Mouse 1/13/2003
382. My Will 1/13/2003
383. Nature's Touch 1/13/2003
384. Nature's Way 1/13/2003
385. Navels 1/13/2003
386. Negress In Notre Dame 1/13/2003
387. Neighbours 1/13/2003
388. New Year's Eve 1/13/2003
389. No Lilies For Lisette 1/13/2003
390. No More Music 1/13/2003
391. No Neck-Tie Party 1/13/2003
392. No Sourdough 1/13/2003
393. No Sunday Chicken 1/13/2003
394. Noctambule 1/13/2003
395. O Lovely Lie 1/13/2003
396. Obesity 1/13/2003
397. Oh, It Is Good 1/13/2003
398. Old Bob 1/13/2003
399. Old Boy Scout 1/13/2003
400. Old Codger 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Robert William Service

The Cremation Of Sam Mcgee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in ...

Read the full of The Cremation Of Sam Mcgee

Wine Bibber

I would rather drink than eat,
And though I superbly sup,
Food, I feel, can never beat
Delectation of the cup.
Wine it is that crowns the feast;
Fish and fowl and fancy meat
Are of my delight the least:
I would rather drink than eat.

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