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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508791" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Low-Down White</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is the pay-day up at the mines, when the bearded brutes come down;<br>There's money to burn in the streets to-night, so I've sent my klooch to town,<br>With a haggard face and a ribband of red entwined in her hair of brown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I know at the dawn she'll come reeling home with the bottles, one, two, three --<br>One for herself, to drown her shame, and two big bottles for me,<br>To make me forget the thing I am and the man I used to be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To make me forget the brand of the dog, as I crouch in this hideous place;<br>To make me forget once I kindled the light of love in a lady's face,<br>Where even the squalid Siwash now holds me a black disgrace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, I have guarded my secret well! And who would dream as I speak<br>In a tribal tongue like a rogue unhung, 'mid the ranch-house filth and reek,<br>I could roll to bed with a Latin phrase and rise with a verse of Greek?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet I was a senior prizeman once, and the pride of a college eight;<br>Called to the bar -- my friends were true! but they could not keep me straight;<br>Then came the divorce, and I went abroad and &quot;died&quot; on the River Plate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I'm not dead yet; though with half a lung there isn't time to spare,<br>And I hope that the year will see me out, and, thank God, no one will care --<br>Save maybe the little slim Siwash girl with the rose of shame in her hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She will come with the dawn, and the dawn is near; I can see its evil glow,<br>Like a corpse-light seen through a frosty pane in a night of want and woe;<br>And yonder she comes by the bleak bull-pines, swift staggering through the snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508791" data-title="The Low-Down White de Robert William Service" data-description="This is the pay-day up at the mines, when the bearded brutes come down;
There's money to burn in the streets to-night, so I've sent my klooch to town,
With a haggard face and a ribband of red entwined in her hair of brown.

And I know at the dawn ..."></div>
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