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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
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Spartan Mother

Published by Susan on 08/09/2003 (2801 reads)
My mother loved her horses and...

My mother loved her horses and
        Her hounds of pedigree;
She did not kiss the baby hand
        I held to her in glee.
Of course I had a sweet nou-nou 
        Who tended me with care,
And mother reined her nag to view
        Me with a critic air.

So I went to a famous school,
        But holidays were short;
My mother thought me just a fool,
        Unfit for games and sport.
For I was fond of books and art,
        And hated hound and steed:
Said Mother, 'Boy, you break my heart!
        You are not of our breed.'

Then came the War. The Mater said:
        'Thank God, a son I give
To King and Country,'--well, I'm dead 
        Who would have loved to live.
'For England's sake,' said she, 'he died.
        For that my boy I bore.'
And now she talks of me with pride.
        A hero of the War.

Mother, I think that you are glad
        I ended up that way.
Your horses and your dogs you had,
        And still you have today.
Your only child you say you gave
        Your Country to defend . . .
Dear Mother, from a hero's grave
        I--curse you in the end.

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