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Poem by Robert William Service
Although you deem it far from nice, And it perchance may hurt you, Let me suggest that cowardice Can masquerade as virtue; And many a maid remains a maid Because she is afraid. And many a man is chaste because He fears the house of sin; And though before the door he pause, He dare not enter in: So worse than being dissolute At home he plays the flute. And many an old cove such as I Is troubled with the jitters, And being as he's scared to die Gives up his gin and bitters; While dreading stomach ulcers he Chucks dinner for high tea. Well, we are wise. When life begins To look so dour and dark 'Tis good to jettison our sins And keep afloat the bark: But don't let us claim lack of vice For what's plumb cowardice!
Robert William Service
Robert William Service's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org