Robert W. Service

Immortality

Full well I trow that when I die
Down drops the curtain;
Another show is all my eye
And Betty Martin.
I know the score, and with a smile
Of rueful rating,
I reckon I am not worth while
Perpetuating.
 
I hope that God,—if God there be
Of love and glory,
Will let me off Eternity,
And end my story.
Will count me just a worn—out bit
Of human matter,
Who’s done his job or bungled it,
—More like the latter.
 
I did not beg for mortal breath,
Plus hell or Heaven;
So let the last pay—off be death,
And call it even.
To Nature I will pay my debt
With stoic laughter:
But spare me, God, your awful threat
Of Life Here—after!

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