Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылки
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Robert William Service (Роберт Уильям Сервис)


Local Lad


I never saw a face so bright
With brilliant blood and joy,
As was the grinning mug last night
Of Dick, our local boy,
When with a clumsy, lucky clout
He knocked the champion out.

A week ago he swung a pick
And sweated in a ditch.
Tonight he's togged up mighty slick,
And fancies himself rich.
With floozies, fine food, bubbly drink
He'll go to hell I think.

Unless they make another match;
And if they do I guess
The champion won't have a scratch,
But Dick will be a mess;
His map will be a muck of gore
As he sprawls on the floor.

Then he'll go back his pick to swing,
And sweat deep in the mud...
Yet still I see him in the ring,
So gay with glee and blood,
Dancing a jig and holding high
His gloves to climb the sky.



Robert William Service's other poems:
  1. My Guardian Angel
  2. Kings Must Die
  3. Miss Mischievous
  4. Old Ed
  5. Pragmatic


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать стихотворение (Poem to print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 546



Последние стихотворения

Поддержать сайт

To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru