Robert William Service

(16 January 1874 - 11 September 1958 / Preston)

Robert William Service Poems

601. Finality 1/13/2003
602. Fleurette 1/13/2003
603. Athabaska Dick 1/13/2003
604. The Three Voices 1/13/2003
605. The Joy Of Little Things 1/13/2003
606. Cardiac 1/13/2003
607. Include Me Out 1/13/2003
608. Gipsy 1/13/2003
609. Child Lover 1/13/2003
610. Escape 1/13/2003
611. At The Parade 1/13/2003
612. Armistice Day (1953) 1/13/2003
613. The Wood-Cutter 1/13/2003
614. Secretary 1/13/2003
615. Seville 1/13/2003
616. Bastard 1/13/2003
617. Baby Sitter 1/13/2003
618. Breton Wife 1/13/2003
619. Decadence 1/13/2003
620. Infirmities 1/13/2003
621. Gypsy Jill 1/13/2003
622. The Woman At The Gate 1/13/2003
623. The Twins 1/13/2003
624. Expectation 1/13/2003
625. Detachment 1/13/2003
626. Forward 1/13/2003
627. Boxer's Wife 1/13/2003
628. Cocotte 1/13/2003
629. Fore-Warning 1/13/2003
630. God's Skallywags 1/13/2003
631. God's Battleground 1/13/2003
632. Immortality 1/13/2003
633. An Epicure 1/13/2003
634. Dylan 1/13/2003
635. Beak-Bashing Boy 1/13/2003
636. The Widower 1/13/2003
637. Black Moran 1/13/2003
638. Balloon 1/13/2003
639. Freethinker 1/13/2003
640. The World's All Right 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.

[Report Error]