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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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The Return

Published by Susan on 07/21/2003 (3534 reads)
They turned him loose; he bowed his head...

They turned him loose; he bowed his head,
 A felon, bent and grey.
His face was even as the Dead,
 He had no word to say.

He sought the home of his old love,
 To look on her once more;
And where her roses breathed above,
 He cowered beside the door.

She sat there in the shining room;
 Her hair was silver grey.
He stared and stared from out the gloom;
 He turned to go away.

Her roses rustled overhead.
 She saw, with sudden start.
"I knew that you would come," she said,
 And held him to her heart.

Her face was rapt and angel-sweet;
 She touched his hair of grey;

. . . . .

But he, sob-shaken, at her feet,
 Could only pray and pray.

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