Poets' Corner - Robert W. Service - Rhymes of a Rolling Stone

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Rhymes of a Rolling Stone

Robert W. Service

I have no doubt at all the Devil grins,

As seas of ink I spatter.

Ye gods, forgive my "literary" sins --

The other kind don't matter.

Prelude	I sing no idle songs of dalliance days, No dreams Elysian inspire my rhyming;
A Rolling Stone	There's sunshine in the heart of me, My blood sings in the breeze;
The Soldier of Fortune	"Deny your God!" they ringed me with their spears; Blood-crazed were they, and reeking from the strife;
The Gramaphone at Fond-Du-Lac	Now Eddie Malone got a swell grammyfone to draw all the trade to his store; An' sez he: "Come along for a season of song, which the like ye had niver before."
The Land of Beyond	Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond, That dreams at the gates of the day?
Sunshine	Flat as a drum-head stretch the haggard snows; The mighty skies are palisades of light;
The Idealist	Oh you who have daring deeds to tell! And you who have felt Ambition's spell!
Athabaska Dick	When the boys come out from Lac Labiche in the lure of the early Spring, To take the pay of the "Hudson's Bay", as their fathers did before,
Cheer	It's a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass, When even the worst is said.
The Return	They turned him loose; he bowed his head, A felon, bent and grey.
The Junior God	The Junior God looked from his place In the conning towers of heaven,
The Nostomaniac	On the ragged edge of the world I'll roam, And the home of the wolf shall be my home,
Ambition	They brought the mighty chief to town; They showed him strange, unwonted sights;
To Sunnydale	There lies the trail to Sunnydale, Amid the lure of laughter.
The Blind and the Dead	She lay like a saint on her copper couch; Like an angel asleep she lay,
The Atavist	What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o' the world, Where the wind has the cut of a naked knife and the stars are rapier keen?
The Sceptic	My Father Christmas passed away When I was barely seven.
The Rover	Oh, how good it is to be Foot-loose and heart-free!
Barb-Wire Bill	At dawn of day the white land lay all gruesome-like and grim, When Bill Mc'Gee he says to me: "We've got to do it, Jim.
"?"	If you had the choice of two women to wed, (Though of course the idea is quite absurd)
Just Think!	Just think! some night the stars will gleam Upon a cold, grey stone,
The Lunger	Jack would laugh an' joke all day; Never saw a lad so gay;
The Mountain and the Lake	I know a mountain thrilling to the stars, Peerless and pure, and pinnacled with snow;
The Headliner and the Breadliner	Moko, the Educated Ape is here, The pet of vaudeville, so the posters say,

Dreams Are Best	I just think that dreams are best, Just to sit and fancy things;
The Quitter	When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye,
The Cow-Juice Cure	The clover was in blossom, an' the year was at the June, When Flap-jack Billy hit the town, likewise O'Flynn's saloon.
While the Bannock Bakes	Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me; I've got to watch the bannock bake -- how restful is the air!
The Lost Master	"And when I come to die," he said, "Ye shall not lay me out in state,
Little Moccasins	Come out, O Little Moccasins, and frolic on the snow! Come out, O tiny beaded feet, and twinkle in the light!
The Wanderlust	The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas, Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Trapper's Christmas Eve	It's mighty lonesome-like and drear. Above the Wild the moon rides high,
The World's All Right	The World's all right; serene I sit, And cease to puzzle over it.
The Baldness of Chewed-Ear	When Chewed-ear Jenkins got hitched up to Guinneyveer McGee, His flowin' locks, ye recollect, wuz frivolous an' free;
The Mother	There will be a singing in your heart, There will be a rapture in your eyes;
The Dreamer	The lone man gazed and gazed upon his gold, His sweat, his blood, the wage of weary days;
At Thirty-Five	Three score and ten, the psalmist saith, And half my course is well-nigh run;
The Squaw Man	The cow-moose comes to water, and the beaver's overbold, The net is in the eddy of the stream;
Home and Love	Just Home and Love! the words are small Four little letters unto each;
I'm Scared of it All	I'm scared of it all, God's truth! so I am; It's too big and brutal for me.
A Song of Success	Ho! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave. Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight.
The Song of the Camp-Fire	Heed me, feed me, I am hungry, I am red-tongued with desire; Boughs of balsam, slabs of cedar, gummy fagots of the pine,
Her Letter	"I'm taking pen in hand this night, and hard it is for me; My poor old fingers tremble so, my hand is stiff and slow,
The Man Who Knew	The Dreamer visioned Life as it might be, And from his dream forthright a picture grew,
The Logger	In the moonless, misty night, with my little pipe alight, I am sitting by the camp-fire's fading cheer;
The Passing of the Year	My glass is filled, my pipe is lit, My den is all a cosy glow;
The Ghosts	Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalised his pen; Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of glory now and then;
Good-Bye, Little Cabin	O dear little cabin, I've loved you so long, And now I must bid you good-bye!
Heart o' the North	And when I come to the dim trail-end, I who have been Life's rover,
The Scribe's Prayer	When from my fumbling hand the tired pen falls, And in the twilight weary droops my head;

Rhymes of a Rolling Stone

Robert W. Service

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