Robert W Service, The Original Homepage

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Perched high upon an office stool

In the Spotlight !

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.
All Entries 1997 - 2002
All Entries 2002
Odds and Ends, Other Items Of Interest About Robert

Old Crony

Published by Susan on 07/30/2003 (3712 reads)
I had a friend, a breezy friend...

I had a friend, a breezy friend
      I liked an awful lot;
And in his company no end
      Of happiness I got.
We clicked in temper, taste and mood,
      We gypsied side by side,--
And then, as no pal ever should,
      He upped and died.

A score of years have since gone by,
      Yet I bemoan him still;
He used to call me Bob and I
      Was wont to call him Bill.
Oh how I wish that he were here,
      How we would bravely walk
On heather hills to tavern cheer,
      And talk and talk!

If as he always used to do,
      He'd just drop in to tea,
To rest awhile and jest awhile,
      How chirpy I would be!
Then he would puff his pipe of briar
      And I my cigarette,
And we would yarn beside the fire,
      And time forget.

Old Pal, come back a little while,
      If just to let me say
How much I miss your jolly smile
      Now you have gone away.
Ah, when in life's allotted span
      We near our journey's end,
What greater treasure is there than
      A Golden Friend!

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