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Robert W Service - Gentle GaolerRobert W Service - Gentle Gaoler
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Being a gaoler I`m supposed          To be a hard-boiled guy; Yet never prison walls enclosed          A kinder soul than I: Passing my charges precious pills          To end their ills. And if in gentle sleep they die,          And pass to pleasant peace, No one suspects that it is I          Who gave them their release: No matter what the Doctor thinks,          The Warden winks. A lifer`s is a fearful fate;          It wrings the heart of me. And what a saving to the State          A sudden death must be! Doomed men should have the legal right          To end their plight. And so my veronel they take,          And bid goodbye to pain; And sleep, and never, never wake          To living hell again: Oh call me curst or call me blest,—          I give them rest.
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