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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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Jones in Capri

Published by Webmaster on 07/30/2003 (3510 reads)
By sunny seas I puff at ease

Jones in Capri

By sunny seas I puff at ease
                            My pipe of briar,
And pity those who warm their toes
                            Beside a fire;
While others seek the London reek
                            In daily doses,
How it is sweet at dawn to greet
                            December roses.

Yet I was just a drudge who must
                            Slave in the City;
From morn to dark rheumatic clerk
                            In warehouse gritty.
No hope had I of brighter sky,
                            In Brixton greying,
And so I quit to do a bit
                            Of foreign straying.

And here I've found a tenting ground
                            Of peace and plenty,
A beauty land of dolche and
                            Of far niente.
I do not know a fret although
                            My funds are scanty;
Spaghetti takes the place of steaks,
                            Of beer - chianti.

So here beside this happy tide
                            My heart has fixed on,
My pipe I'll smoke and never poke
                            A fire in Brixton;
Aye, here I'll stay while solar ray
                            Cures my lumbago,
And with my sum of thrift become
                            Almost a Dago.

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