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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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Tripe

Published by Susan on 08/08/2003 (2292 reads)
When I was young and moron...

When I was young and moron
       I doted on Hall Caine;
Corelli I would pore on,
       Despite high-brow disdain.
Aye, though them critic fellers
       Damned both in bitter type,
Insisting them best-sellers
               Were just Tripe.

Today I'm reading Cronin,
       Du Maurier and such,
And critics still are groanin'
       And griping overmuch.
But I, their scorn unheeding,
       Forget to light my pipe,
So rapt am I a-reading
               Of their Tripe.

For though my head is hoary,
       Still moron is my heart;
I love a darned good story
       With action from the start.
Aye, though the critics suffer
       And artistically gripe,
Just write me down a duffer
               Loving Tripe.

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