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A father's pride I used to know, A mother's love was mine

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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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I Shall Not Burn

Published by Susan on 08/02/2003 (3841 reads)
I have done with love and lust...

I have done with love and lust,
      I reck not for gold or fame;
I await familiar dust
      These frail fingers to reclaim:
      Not for me the tiger flame.

Not for me the furnace glow,
      Rage of fire and ashen doom;
To sweet earth my bones bestow
      Where above a lowly tomb
      January roses bloom.

Fools and fools and fools are you
      Who your dears to fires confide;
Give to Mother Earth her due:
      Flesh may waste but bone will bide,--
      Let loved ones lie side by side.

Let God's Acre ever dream;
      Shed your tears and blossoms bring;
On age-burnished bone will gleam
      Crucifix and wedding ring:
      Graves are for sweet comforting.

      Curst be those who my remains
      Hurl to horror of the flames!

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