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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


Published by Susan on 08/09/2003 (3330 reads)
If on isle of the sea...

If on isle of the sea
        I have to tarry,
With one book, let it be
        A Dictionary.
For though I love life's scene,
        It seems absurd,
My greatest joy has been
        The printed word.

Though painter with delight
        May colours blend,
They are but in his sight
        Means to an end.
Yet while I harmonise
        Or pattern them,
A precious word I prize
        Like to a gem.

A fiddler lures fine tone
        From gut and wood;
A sculptor from stark stone
        Shapes godlihood.
But let me just caress,
        Like silver birds,
For their own loveliness--
        Bewitching words.

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