Home ⇒ 📌Robert William Service ⇒ The Receptionist
The Receptionist
France is the fairest land on earth,
Lovely to heart’s desire,
And twice a year I span its girth,
Its beauty to admire.
But when a pub I seek each night,
To my profound vexation
On form they hand me I’ve to write
My occupation.
So once in a derisive mood
My pen I nibbled;
And though I know I never should:
‘Gangster’ I scribbled.
But as the clerk with startled face
Looked stark suspicion,
I blurred it out and in its place
Put ‘Politician.’
Then suddenly dissolved his frown;
His face fused to a grin,
As humorously he set down
The form I handed in.
His shrug was eloquent to view.
Quoth he: ‘What’s in a name?
In France, alas! the lousy two
Are just the same.’
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- The Judgement The Judge looked down, his face was grim, He scratched his ear; The gangster’s moll looked up at him With eyes of fear. She thought: ‘This guy in velvet gown, With balding pate, Who now on me is looking down, Can seal my fate.’ The Judge thought: ‘Fifteen years or ten I might decree. Just […]...
- The Bandit Upon his way to rob a Bank He paused to watch a fire; Though crowds were pressing rank on rank He pushed a passage nigher; Then sudden heard, piercing and wild, The screaming of a child. A Public Enemy was he, A hater of the law; He looked around for bravery But only fear he […]...
- A Strange Wild Song He thought he saw an Elephant That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. “At length I realize,” he said, “The bitterness of life!” He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece: He looked again, and found it was His Sister’s Husband’s Niece. “Unless you […]...
- Sonnet LXXXV My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still, While comments of your praise, richly compiled, Reserve their character with golden quill And precious phrase by all the Muses filed. I think good thoughts whilst other write good words, And like unletter’d clerk still cry ‘Amen’ To every hymn that able spirit affords In polish’d form […]...
- Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still, While comments of your praise, richly compiled, Reserve their character with golden quill, And precious phrase by all the Muses filed. I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words, And like unlettered clerk still cry “Amen” To every hymn that able spirit affords In polished form […]...
- Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
- The Mad Gardener's Song He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. ‘At length I realise,’ he said, The bitterness of Life!’ He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece: He looked again, and found it was His Sister’s Husband’s Niece. ‘Unless you […]...
- Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
- Divine Detachment One day the Great Designer sought His Clerk of Birth and Death. Said he: “Two souls are in my thought, To whom I gave life-breath. I deemed my work was fitly done, But yester-eve I saw That in the finished brain of one There was a tiny flaw. “It worried me, and I would know, […]...
- Lobster For Lunch His face was like a lobster red, His legs were white as mayonnaise: “I’ve had a jolly lunch,” he said, That Englishman of pleasant ways. “Thy do us well at our hotel: In England food is dull these days.” “We had a big langouste for lunch. I almost ate the whole of it. And now […]...
- The Tragedy Oh, I never felt so wretched, and things never looked so blue Since the days I gulped the physic that my Granny used to brew; For a friend in whom I trusted, entering my room last night, Stole a bottleful of Heenzo from the desk whereon I write. I am certain sure he did it […]...
- Like eyes that looked on Wastes Like eyes that looked on Wastes Incredulous of Ought But Blank and steady Wilderness Diversified by Night Just Infinites of Nought As far as it could see So looked the face I looked upon So looked itself on Me I offered it no Help Because the Cause was Mine The Misery a Compact As hopeless […]...
- Inspiration How often have I started out With no thought in my noodle, And wandered here and there about, Where fancy bade me toddle; Till feeling faunlike in my glee I’ve voiced some gay distiches, Returning joyfully to tea, A poem in my britches. A-squatting on a thymy slope With vast of sky about me, I’ve […]...
- Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
- My Suicide I’ve often wondered why Old chaps who choose to die In evil passes, Before themselves they slay, Invariably they Take off their glasses? As I strolled by the Castle cliff An oldish chap I set my eyes on, Who stood so singularly stiff And stark against the blue horizon; A poet fashioning a sonnet, I […]...
- Now Art Has Lost Its Mental Charms ‘Now Art has lost its mental charms France shall subdue the world in arms.’ So spoke an Angel at my birth; Then said ‘Descend thou upon earth, Renew the Arts on Britain’s shore, And France shall fall down and adore. With works of art their armies meet And War shall sink beneath thy feet. But […]...
- Singapore They grouped together about the chief And each one looked at his mate, Ashamed to think that Australian men Should meet such bitter fate! And black was the wrath in each hot heart And savage oaths they swore As they thought of how they had all been ditched By “Impregnable” Singapore. In her vaunted place […]...
- Dead Love Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark, White as a dead stark-stricken dove: None that pass by him pause to mark Dead love. His heart, that strained and yearned and strove As toward the sundawn strives the lark, Is cold as all the old joy thereof. Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark When rings […]...
- A Smuggler's Song If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet, Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street. Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie. Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark Brandy for the Parson, ‘Baccy for the […]...
- Armistice Day (1953) Don’t jeer because we celebrate Armistice Day, Though thirty years of sorry fate Have passed away. Though still we gaurd the Sacred Flame, And fly the Flag, That World War Two with grief and shame Revealed a rag. For France cannot defend to-day Her native land; And she is far to proud to pray For […]...
- Every Man Should have a Rifle So I sit and write and ponder, while the house is deaf and dumb, Seeing visions “over yonder” of the war I know must come. In the corner – not a vision – but a sign for coming days Stand a box of ammunition and a rifle in green baize. And in this, the living […]...
- Going Home I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty ain’t I glad to ‘ave the chance! I’m loaded up wiv fightin’, and I’ve ‘ad my fill o’ France; I’m feelin’ so excited-like, I want to sing and dance, For I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty in the mawnin’. I’m goin’ ‘ome to Blighty: can you wonder as I’m gay? I’ve […]...
- SOUND OF SLEAT I always looked out at the world, And wondered if the world looked back at me, Standing on the edge of something, On my face – the wind from the cold sea. Across the waters were mirrors to see Faces that looked like me, People caught between two places, People crossing over the seas. And […]...
- 414. Impromptu on Dumourier's Desertion of the French Republican Army YOU’RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier; You’re welcome to Despots, Dumourier: How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier? I will fight France with you, Dumourier; I will fight France with you, Dumourier; I will fight France with you, I will take my chance with you; By […]...
- The Appology ‘Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule I am alone forbid to play the fool To follow through the Groves a wand’ring Muse And fain’d Idea’s for my pleasures chuse Why shou’d it in my Pen be held a fault Whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought Whilst Lamia to […]...
- Are You Drinking? washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook out again I write from the bed as I did last year. will see the doctor, Monday. “yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo, head- aches and my back hurts.” “are you drinking?” he will ask. “are you getting your Exercise, your vitamins?” I think that I am just ill […]...
- Why Do Birds Sing? Let poets piece prismatic words, Give me the jewelled joy of birds! What ecstasy moves them to sing? Is it the lyric glee of Spring, The dewy rapture of the rose? Is it the worship born in those Who are of Nature’s self a part, The adoration of the heart? Is it the mating mood […]...
- Politics ‘In our time the destiny of man prevents its meanings In political terms.’ Thomas Mann. How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics? Yet here’s a travelled man that knows What he talks about, And there’s a politician That has read and thought, And […]...
- Tri-Colour Poppies, you try to tell me, glowing there in the wheat; Poppies! Ah no! You mock me: It’s blood, I tell you, it’s blood. It’s gleaming wet in the grasses; it’s glist’ning warm in the wheat; It dabbles the ferns and the clover; it brims in an angry flood; It leaps to the startled heavens; […]...
- Reverence I saw the Greatest Man on Earth, Aye, saw him with my proper eyes. A loin-cloth spanned his proper girth, But he was naked otherwise, Excepting for his grey sombrero; And when his domelike head he bared, With reverence I stared and stared, As mummified as any Pharaoh. He leaned upon a little cane, A […]...
- On a Vulgar Error No. It’s an impudent falsehood. Men did not Invariably think the newer way Prosaic Mad, inelegant, or what not. Was the first pointed arch esteemed a blot Upon the church? Did anybody say How Modern and how ugly? They did not. Plate-armour, or windows glazed, or verse fire-hot With rhymes from France, or spices from […]...
- The Height of the Ridiculous I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came; How kind […]...
- Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
- O Star of France 1 O STAR of France! The brightness of thy hope and strength and fame, Like some proud ship that led the fleet so long, Beseems to-day a wreck, driven by the gale-a mastless hulk; And ‘mid its teeming, madden’d, half-drown’d crowds, Nor helm nor helmsman. 2 Dim, smitten star! Orb not of France alone-pale symbol […]...
- Mismet He was leaning by a face, He was looking into eyes, And he knew a trysting-place, And he heard seductive sighs; But the face, And the eyes, And the place, And the sighs, Were not, alas, the right ones the ones meet for him Though fine and sweet the features, and the feelings all abrim. […]...
- The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter After Li Po While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played at the front gate, pulling flowers. You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. And we went on living in the village of Chokan: Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. […]...
- Threshold I was not aware of the moment When I first crossed the threshold of this life. What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery Like a bud in the forest at midnight! When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no […]...
- Lesson In Grammar THE SENTENCE Perhaps I can make it plain by analogy. Imagine a machine, not yet assembled, Each part being quite necessary To the functioning of the whole: if the job is fumbled And a vital piece mislaid The machine is quite valueless, The workers will not be paid. It is just the same when constructing […]...
- More Later, Less The Same The common is unusually calm they captured the storm Last night, it’s sleeping in the stockade, relieved Of its duty, pacified, tamed, a pussycat. But not before it tied the flagpole in knots, And not before it alarmed the firemen out of their pants. Now it’s really calm, almost too calm, as though Anything could […]...
- Wallflower Till midnight her needle she plied To finish her pretty pink dress; “Oh, bless you, my darling,” she sighed; “I hope you will be a success.” As she entered the Oddfellow’s Hall With the shy thrill of maiden romance She felt like the belle of the Ball, But. . . nobody asked her to dance. […]...