Sunday 17 September 2017

Random Cutting - Poet Robert Service dies (1958)

                             Click to Read

I'm not a great lover of poetry, but when, many years ago, I read the opening lines of The Shooting of Dan McGrew I was hooked on Robert Service –

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a rag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that’s known as Lou.

My other favourite is ‘The Cremation of Sam McGee’  which begins –

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

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