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  <title>there are strange things done in the midnight sun</title>
  <subtitle>by the men who moil for gold</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Robert William Service</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2005-07-24T10:41:28Z</updated>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:robertservice:529</id>
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    <title>one of my best poems, i think.</title>
    <published>2005-07-24T10:41:28Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-24T10:41:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Grin, by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re up against a bruiser and you’re getting knocked about—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re feeling pretty groggy, and you’re licked beyond a doubt—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let him see you’re funking, let him know with every clout,&lt;br /&gt;Though your face is battered to a pulp, your blooming heart is stout;&lt;br /&gt;Just stand upon your pins until the beggar knocks you out—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This life’s a bally battle, and the same advice holds true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re up against it badly, then it’s only one on you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the future’s black as thunder, don’t let people see you’re blue;&lt;br /&gt;Just cultivate a cast-iron smile of joy the whole day through;&lt;br /&gt;If they call you “Little Sunshine”, wish that THEY’D no troubles, too—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may—grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rise up in the morning with the will that, smooth or rough,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’ll grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sink to sleep at midnight, and although you’re feeling tough,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s nothing gained by whining, and you’re not that kind of stuff;&lt;br /&gt;You’re a fighter from away back, and you WON’T take a rebuff;&lt;br /&gt;Your trouble is that you don’t know when you have had enough—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Fate should down you, just get up and take another cuff;&lt;br /&gt;You may bank on it that there is no philosophy like bluff,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And grin.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:robertservice:491</id>
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    <title>robertservice @ 2005-07-09T16:44:00</title>
    <published>2005-07-09T19:46:10Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-09T19:46:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">hello, everyone. my name is Robert Service. i am a great Canadian poet, even though i was born in England. you may know me from such poems as "The Cremation of Sam Mcgee" and "Grin". i am new to this Internet thing, obviously, having been dead since 1958 and mysteriously ressurected. will you be my friend?</content>
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