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And now I fear I must write in another strain...

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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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Farewell To Verse

Published by Susan on 08/08/2003 (2593 reads)
In youth when oft my muse was dumb...

In youth when oft my muse was dumb,
        My fancy nighly dead,
To make my inspiration come
        I stood upon my head;
And thus I let the blood down flow
        Into my cerebellum,
And published every Spring or so
        Slim tomes in vellum.

Alas! I am rheumatic now,
        Grey is my crown;
I can no more with brooding brow
        Stand upside-down.
I fear I might in such a pose
        Burst brain blood-vessel;
And that would be a woeful close
        To my rhyme wrestle.

If to write verse I must reverse
        I fear I'm stymied;
In ink of prose I must immerse
        A pen de-rhymèd.
No more to spank the lyric lyre
        Like Keats or Browning,
May I inspire the Sacred Fire
        My Upside-downing.

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