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Robert W Service - The Palace
Work rating: Medium

Grimy men with picks and shovels
     Who in darkness sweat unseen,
Climb from out your lousy hovels,
     Build a palace for the Queen;
Praise the powers that be for giving
     You a chance to make a living.

Yet it would be better far
     Could you build with cosy lure
Skyey tenements where are
     Rabbit-warrens of the poor;
With a hope bright as a gem
     Some day you might live in them.

Could the Queen just say: `A score
     Of rich palaces have I.
Do not make me any more,—
     Raise a hostel heaven-high;
House the hundreds who have need,
     To their misery give heed.`

Could she make this gesture fine
     To the pit where labour grovels,
Mother hearts would cease to pine,
     Weary men would wave their shovels.
All would cry with hope serene:
     `Little children, bless the Queen!`
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