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

Henry

Published by Susan on 08/09/2003 (2117 reads)
Mary and I were twenty-two...

Mary and I were twenty-two
        When we were wed;
A well-matched pair, right smart to view
        The town's folk said.
For twenty years I have been true
        To nuptial bed.

But oh alas! The march of time,
        Life's wear and tear!
Now I am in my lusty prime
        With pep to spare,
While she looks ten more years than I'm,
        With greying hair.

'Twas on our trip dear friends among,
        To New Orleans,
A stranger's silly trip of tongue
        Kiboshed my dreams:
I heard her say: 'How very young
        His mother seems.'

Child-bearing gets a woman down,
        And six had she;
Yet now somehow I feel a clown
        When she's with me;
When cuties smile one cannot frown,
        You must agree.

How often I have heard it said:
        'For happy fate,
In age a girl ten years ahead
        Should choose her mate.'
Now twenty years to Mary wed
        I know too late.

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