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Alas! I am only a rhymer, I don't know the meaning of Art

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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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Brave Coward

Published by Susan on 08/08/2003 (3001 reads)
Elisabeth imagines I've...

Elisabeth imagines I've
       A yellow streak
She deems I have no dash and drive,
       Jest dogoned weak.
'A man should be a man,' says Liz
       'Trade blow for blow.'
Poor kid! What my position is
       She jest don't know.

She jest don't know my old man killed,
       Yea, slew and slew.
As steamy blood he sweetly spilled,
       So could I too.
And though no wrath of heart I show
       When I see red,
I fear no S. O. B. but oh
       Myself I dread.

Though fellers reckon me a dope
       And trigger-shy,
'Tain't nice to dangle on a rope,
       And like Pa die.
So as I belly to the bar
       Meek is my breath . . .
No guts! --Don't needle me too far,
       Elizabeth!


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