Class-Mates

Bob Briggs went in for Government,
And helps to run the State;
Some day they say he'll represent
His party in debate:
But with punk politics his job,
I do not envy Bob.

Jim Jones went in for writing books,
Best sellers were his aim;
He's ten years younger than he looks,
And licks the heels of Fame:
Though shop-girls make a fuss of him
I do not envy Jim.

Joe Giles went in for grabbing gold,
And grovelled in the dirt;
He, too, looks prematurely old,
His gastric ulcers hurt:
Although he has a heap of dough.
I do not envy Joe.

I've neither fame nor power nor wealth,
I fish and hunt for food;
But I have heaps of rugged health,
And life seems mighty good.
So when my class-mates come to spend
A week-end in my shack,
With lake and wood at journey's end
--They envy Jack.

More poems by Robert Service

Bill's Prayer

I never thought that Bill could say / A proper prayer;

Robert Service

Benjamin Franklin

Franklin fathered bastards fourteen, / (So I read in the New Yorker);

Robert Service

Breakfast

Of all the meals that glad my day / My morning one's the best;

Robert Service

Book Lover

I keep collecting books I know / I'll never, never read;

Robert Service

All poems by Robert Service →