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Poem by Robert William Service An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: "Last night you killed," they said. "last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death." "last night I killed," he moaned distraught, "When I was wild with wine; I slew, and I remember naught... O Mother, Mother mine! "To what unbridled rage may lead You taught me at your knew. Why did I not your warning heed... And now; the gallows tree. "O Mother, Mother, come to me, For I am sore distrest, And I would kneel beside your knee And weep upon your breast..." They stared at him; their lips were dumb, Their eyes tear filled; Then spoke the Priest: "She cannot come... 'Twas she you killed." Robert William Service Robert William Service's other poems:
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