My brother Jim's a millionaire, <br />while I have scarce a penny; <br />His face is creased with lines of care, <br />While my mug hasn't any. <br />With inwardness his eyes are dim, <br />While mine laugh out in glee, <br />And though I ought to envy him, <br />I think he envies me. <br /> <br />He has a chateau, I a shack, <br />And humble I should be <br />To see his stately Cadillac <br />Beside my jalopy. <br />With chain of gold his belly's girt, <br />His beard is barber trim; <br />Yet bristle-chinned with ragged shirt, <br />I do not envy Jim. <br /> <br />My brother is a man of weight; <br />For every civic plum <br />He grabs within one pie of state, <br />While I am just a bum. <br />Last Winter he was near to croak <br />With gastric ulcers grim. . . . <br />And no! although I'm stony broke <br />I will not envy Jim <br /> <br />He gets the work, I get the fun; <br />He has no tie for play; <br />Whereas with paddle, rod and gun <br />My life's a holiday. <br />As over crabbed script he pores <br />I can the sky's blue rim. . . . <br />Oh boy! While I have God's outdoors <br />I'll never envy Jim.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brother-jim/
