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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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Published by Webmaster on 07/30/2003 (2856 reads)
When my dear husband died in grace


When my dear husband died in grace
    I vowed I'd never take another;
Yet here, prepared to take his place
    And share my home comes his twin brother.
How strange that God should take away
    The saintly one and leave the sinner:
For Edgar - Edwin used to pray,
    And now the wicked one's the winner.

'Tis true the two were like as peas
    When first they left their mother's nipples;
Yet Edwin shone at tennis teas
    While Edgar at the Anchor tipples.
In sooth the black sheep and the white. . . .
    (Poor Edwin might have been a Vicar)
Yet Edgar is so nice despite
    His wenching and his love of liquor.

They say a women loves a rake -
    It may be so, I never knew it.
I should be lone, for Edwin's sake;
    If I re-marry I may rue it.
Yet Edgar's such a handsome brute
    I fear he may my double-bed win -
The pious and the dissolute. . . .
    What shall I do? Alas, poor Edwin!

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