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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 Prince

Published by Webmaster on 07/29/2003 (2970 reads)
In uniform they deck me out

The Prince

In uniform they deck me out,
    Pin medals on my chest;
With braid of gold beyond a doubt
    I shine above the best.
They set me on a splendid steed,
    Salute me as they pass,
Who never did a gallant deed,
    And should bestride and ass.

Today an Admiral I am;
    Tomorrow I will be
A General, a sorry sham
    Whom thousands cheer to see,
Although a plan I never flew,
    Bright wings of flight I wear,
And radiant pilots I review
    As Marshall of the Air.

I spout the speeches that they write,
    As if from my own pen;
And though I don't know how to fight
    I rant to fighting men
And yet, perhaps, I too am brave
    In my submissive way,
And personally do not crave
    The role I play.

Of pageantry I am am a part,
    And to its pattern fit;
Yet oh how in my humble heart
    I loath the farce of it!
A Royal Varlet, I obey,
    And may no choice evince . . .
Yet how I curse the bitter day
    That I was born - a Prince.

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