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I am a stout materialist; With abstract terms I can't agree

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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 Idealist

Published by Susan on 07/21/2003 (3711 reads)
Oh you who have daring deeds to tell...

Oh you who have daring deeds to tell!
 And you who have felt Ambition's spell!
Have you heard of the louse who longed to dwell
 In the golden hair of a queen?
He sighed all day and he sighed all night,
 And no one could understand it quite,
For the head of a slut is a louse's delight,
 But he pined for the head of a queen.

So he left his kinsfolk in merry play,
 And off by his lonesome he stole away,
From the home of his youth so bright and gay,
 And gloriously unclean.
And at last he came to the palace gate,
 And he made his way in a manner straight
(For a louse may go where a man must wait)
 To the tiring-room of the queen.

The queen she spake to her tiring-maid:
 "There's something the matter, I'm afraid.
To-night ere for sleep my hair ye braid,
 Just see what may be seen."
And lo, when they combed that shining hair
 They found him alone in his glory there,
And he cried: "I die, but I do not care,
 For I've lived in the head of a queen!"

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