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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
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The Old Armchair

Published by Susan on 07/29/2003 (2889 reads)
In all the pubs from Troon to Ayr...

In all the pubs from Troon to Ayr
Grandfather's father would repair
With Bobby Burns, a drouthy pair,
                      The glass to clink;
And oftenwhiles, when not too "fou,"
They'd roar a bawdy stave or two,
From midnight muk to morning dew,
                       And drink and drink.

And Grandfather, with eye aglow
And proper pride, would often show
An old armchair where long ago
                       The Bard would sit;
Reciting there with pawky glee
"The Lass that Made the Bed for Me;"
Or whiles a rhyme about the flea
                       That ne'er was writ.

Then I would seek the Poet's chair
And plant my kilted buttocks there,
And read with joy the Bard of Ayr
                        In my own tongue;
The Diel, the Daisy and the Louse
The Hare, the Haggis and the Mouse,
(What fornication and carouse!)
                        When I was young.

Though Kipling, Hardy, Stevenson
Have each my admiration won,
Today, my rhyme-race almost run,
                        My fancy turns
To him who did Pegasus prod
For me, Bard of my native sod,
The sinner best-loved of God -
                        Rare Robbie Burns.


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