poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

Read more poems by Robert Service: Robert Service Poems at Poetry X.

In youth I gnawed life's bitter rind
And shared the rugged lot
Of fellows rude and unrefined,
Frustrated and forgot;
And now alas! it is too late
My sorry ways to mend,
So sadly I accept my fate,
A Roughneck to the end.

Profanity is in my voice
And slag is in my rhyme,
For I have mucked with men who curse
And grovel in the grime;
My fingers were not formed, I fear,
To frame a pretty pen,
So please forgive me if I veer
From Virtue now and then.

For I would be the living voice,
Though raucous is its tone,
Of men who rarely may rejoice,
Yet barely ever moan:
The rovers of the raw-ribbed lands,
The lads of lowly worth,
The scallywags with scaley hands
Who weld the ends of earth. 

Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 16 Oct 2008 12:47 AM | Viewed: 2164 times

PoetryNotes™ Analysis

A custom PoetryNotes™ eBook may be ordered for this poem. Get help with your homework - delivered in 5-6 days.

For more information...