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Ten little brown chicks scattered and scuffled, Under the blue-berries hiding in fear;

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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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O Lovely Lie

Published by Susan on 08/09/2003 (3143 reads)
I told a truth, a tragic truth...

I told a truth, a tragic truth
        That tore the sullen sky;
A million shuddered at my sooth
        And anarchist was I.
Red righteousness was in my word
        To winnow evil chaff;
Yet while I swung crusading sword
        I heard the devil laugh.

I framed a lie, a rainbow lie
        To glorify a thought;
And none was so surprised as I
        When fast as fire it caught.
Like honey people lapped my lie
        And peddled it abroad,
Till in a lift of sunny sky
        I saw the smile of God.

If falsehood may be best, I thought,
        To hell with verity;
Dark truth may be a cancer spot
        'Twere better not to see.
Aye, let a lie be big and bold
        Yet ripe with hope and ruth,
Beshrew me! but its heart may hold
        More virtue than the truth.

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