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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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Grave-Digger

Published by Susan on 07/27/2003 (2890 reads)
When I was young and full of sap...

When I was young and full of sap
I had of many a maid my pleasure.
God's truth! I was a randy chap
And took of willing winch my measure;
Of Nell and Nam, of Bell and Bess,
But now I've got to life's November,
When I look back I must confess
One half of 'em I don't remember.

It seems right rum, for all are dead
And in fond memory respected.
Most honourably they were wed,
And none their strayfulness suspected.
And I have buried each sweet jade,
Ay, Jill and Jane and Maude and Mollie:
So now I lean upon my spade
And think of them with melancholy.

My sins have never found me out,
for I have covered up my traces;
Yet as I ramble all about,
I see so many childish faces,
The bairns of lassies I have loved,
Who have of me some strain indwelling . . .
Well, nothing ever can be proved:
God only knows, and he's not telling.

But now I'm burying the last,
The only one I truly cherished;
Not one love-look on me she cast,
Yet for her proudly I'd have perished.
I kissed the ground on which she trod,
And ere the gowans gay shall hide her,
I pray: O Understanding God!
My I be blest to rest beside her.


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