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Robert W Service - Old Crony
Work rating: Low

I had a friend, a breezy friend
      I liked an awful lot;
And in his company no end
      Of happiness I got.
We clicked in temper, taste and mood,
      We gypsied side by side,—
And then, as no pal ever should,
      He upped and died.
      
A score of years have since gone by,
      Yet I bemoan him still;
He used to call me Bob and I
      Was wont to call him Bill.
Oh how I wish that he were here,
      How we would bravely walk
On heather hills to tavern cheer,
      And talk and talk!

If as he always used to do,
      He`d just drop in to tea,
To rest awhile and jest awhile,
      How chirpy I would be!
Then he would puff his pipe of briar
      And I my cigarette,
And we would yarn beside the fire,
      And time forget.

Old Pal, come back a little while,
      If just to let me say
How much I miss your jolly smile
      Now you have gone away.
Ah, when in life`s allotted span
      We near our journey`s end,
What greater treasure is there than
      A Golden Friend!
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