Ballads of a Bohemian

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Ballads of a Bohemian
Robert W. Service
[British-born Canadian Poet -- 1874-1958.]
Author of "The Spell of the Yukon", "Ballads of a Cheechako",
"Rhymes of a Red Cross Man", etc.
[Note on text: Italicized words or phrases are marked by tildes (~).
Lines longer than 78 characters are broken (according to metre) and the
continuation is indented two spaces. Some obvious errors may have
been corrected.]
[Note on accents: Due to the great number of French words used in this
text, accents are marked as followed: "/", "\", "^", or "," immediately
*follows* the character it accents. "Cafe/", "fe^te", "cha^teau",
"garc,on", and "me^le/e" are given without accents as they have been
absorbed into the English language. "Finiste
e", "Fourrage
e" and
"mo^me" are given without accents due to excessive repetition.]
Ballads of a Bohemian
By Robert W. Service
CONTENTS
Prelude
BOOK ONE
SPRING
I
My Garret
Julot the ~Apache~
II

~L'Escargot D'Or~
It Is Later Than You Think
Noctambule
III
Insomnia
Moon Song
The Sewing-Girl
IV
Lucille
On the Boulevard
Facility
V
Golden Days
The Joy of Little Things
The Absinthe Drinkers
BOOK TWO
EARLY SUMMER
I
The Release
The Wee Shop
The Philistine and the Bohemian
II
The Bohemian Dreams
A Domestic Tragedy
The Pencil Seller
III
Fi-Fi in Bed
Gods in the Gutter
The Death of Marie Toro
IV
The Bohemian
The Auction Sale
The Joy of Being Poor
V
My Neighbors
Room 4: The Painter Chap
Room 6: The Little
Workgirl
Room 5: The Concert Singer
Room 7: The Coco-Fiend
BOOK THREE
LATE SUMMER

I
The Philanderer
The ~Petit Vieux~
My Masterpiece
My Book

My Hour
II
A Song of Sixty-Five
Teddy Bear
The Outlaw
The Walkers
III
Poor Peter
The Wistful One
If You Had a Friend
The Contented
Man
The Spirit of the Unborn Babe
IV
Finistere
Old David Smail
The Wonderer
Oh, It Is Good
V
I Have Some Friends
The Quest
The Comforter
The Other One

Catastrophe
BOOK FOUR
WINTER
I
Priscilla
A Casualty
The Blood-Red ~Fourragere~
Jim
II
Kelly of the Legion
The Three Tommies
The Twa Jocks
III
His Boys
The Booby-Trap
Bonehead Bill
IV

A Lapse of Time and a Word of Explanation
Michael
The Wife

Victory Stuff
Was It You?
V
~Les Grands Mutiles~
The Sightless Man
The Legless Man
The
Faceless Man
L'Envoi

Ballads of a Bohemian
Prelude
~Alas! upon some starry height,
The Gods of Excellence to please,

This hand of mine will never smite
The Harp of High Serenities.

Mere minstrel of the street am I,
To whom a careless coin you fling;

But who, beneath the bitter sky,
Blue-lipped, yet insolent of eye,

Can shrill a song of Spring;
A song of merry mansard days,
The
cheery chimney-tops among;
Of rolics and of roundelays
When we
were young . . . when we were young;
A song of love and lilac nights,

Of wit, of wisdom and of wine;
Of Folly whirling on the Heights,

Of hunger and of hope divine;
Of Blanche, Suzette and Celestine,

And all that gay and tender band
Who shared with us the fat, the
lean,
The hazard of Illusion-land;
When scores of Philistines we
slew
As mightily with brush and pen
We sought to make the world
anew,
And scorned the gods of other men;
When we were fools
divinely wise,
Who held it rapturous to strive;
When Art was sacred
in our eyes,
And it was Heav'n to be alive. . . .
O days of glamor, glory, truth,
To you to-night I raise my glass;
O
freehold of immortal youth,
Bohemia, the lost, alas!
O laughing
lads who led the romp,
Respectable you've grown, I'm told;
Your

heads you bow to power and pomp,
You've learned to know the
worth of gold.
O merry maids who shared our cheer,
Your eyes are
dim, your locks are gray;
And as you scrub I sadly fear
Your
daughters speed the dance to-day.
O windmill land and crescent
moon!
O Columbine and Pierrette!
To you my old guitar I tune

Ere I forget, ere I forget. . . .
So come, good men who toil and tire,
Who smoke and sip the kindly
cup,
Ring round about the tavern fire
Ere yet you drink your liquor
up;
And hear my simple songs of earth,
Of youth and truth and
living things;
Of poverty and proper mirth,
Of rags and rich
imaginings;
Of cock-a-hoop, blue-heavened days,
Of hearts elate
and eager breath,
Of wonder, worship, pity, praise,
Of sorrow,
sacrifice and death;
Of lusting, laughter, passion, pain,
Of lights
that lure and dreams that thrall . . .
And if a golden word I gain,
Oh,
kindly folks, God save you all!
And if you shake your heads in
blame . . .
Good friends, God love you all the same.~
BOOK ONE
SPRING
I
Montparnasse,
April 1914.
All day the sun has shone into my little attic, a bitter sunshine that
brightened yet did not warm. And