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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 Susan on 08/08/2003 (2385 reads)
My Master is a man of might...

My Master is a man of might
     With manners like a hog;
He makes me slave from morn to night
     And treats me like a dog.
He thinks there's nothing on this earth
     His money cannot buy,
And claims to get full wages worth
     From hirelings such as I.

But does he? Though a Man of State,
     And fabulously rich,
He little guesses that his mate
     Is just a bonny bitch.
For he is grey and gross and fat,
     While I am tall and slim,
And when he's gone it happens that
     I take the place of him.

Oh God! The beauty of the blow
     When I will blast his life;
When I will laugh and let him know
     My mistress is his wife.
Today a doormat for his feet,
     He loves to see me squirm . . .
Tomorrow,--how revenge is sweet!
     The turning of the worm.

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