Rudyard Kipling

“ Ah, Gawd, I love you so! What's the good o' pleadin', when the mother that bore you (Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you? Sleep on 'is promises an' wake to your sorrow (Mary, pity women!) , for we sail to-morrow!
For to Admire The Injian Ocean sets an' smiles So sof', so bright, so bloomin' blue; There aren't a wave for miles an' miles Excep' the jiggle from the screw. The ship is swep', the day is done, The bugle's gone for smoke and play; An' black agin' the settin' sun The Lascar sings, “Hum deckty hai!” ”

“ If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath To shoot when you catch 'em—you'll swing, on my oath!— Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both, An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier. Curse, curse, curse of a soldier... When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck, Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck, Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck And march to your front like a soldier. ”

“ True love! New love! Best take 'im for a new love, The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes, An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
Screw-Guns Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin' cool, I walks in my old brown gaiters along o' my old brown mule, With seventy gunners be'ind me, an' never a beggar forgets It's only the pick of the Army that handles the dear little pets—'Tss! 'Tss! For you all love the screw-guns—the screw-guns they all love you! ”

“ For there isn't a job on the top o' the earth the beggar don't know, nor do— You can leave 'im at night on a bald man's 'ead, to paddle 'is own canoe— 'E's a sort of a bloomin' cosmopolouse—soldier an' sailor too. ”

“ Ho! get away you bullock-man, you've 'eard the bugle blowed, There's a regiment a-comin' down the Grand Trunk Road; With its best foot first And the road a-sliding past, An' every bloomin' campin'-ground exactly like the last; While the Big Drum says, With 'is “rowdy-dowdy-dow!”— “Kiko kissywarsti don't you hamsher argy jow?” Oh, there's them Injian temples to admire when you see, There's the peacock round the corner an' the monkey up the tree, An' there's that rummy silver grass a-wavin' in the wind, An' the old Grand Trunk a-trailin' like a rifle-sling be'ind. ”

“ For you all love the screw-guns—the screw-guns they all love you! So when we take tea with a few guns, o' course you will know what to do—hoo! hoo! Jest send in your Chief an' surrender— it's worse if you fights or you runs: You may hide in the caves, they'll be only your graves, but you can't get away from the guns! ”

“ Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! You can 'ear the 'orses threshin', you can 'ear the men a-splashin', 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. Kabul town was ours to take— Blow the bugle, draw the sword— I'd ha' left it for 'is sake— 'Im that left me by the ford. Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! It's none so bloomin' dry there; ain't you never comin' nigh there, 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark? Kabul town'll go to hell— Blow the bugle, draw the sword— 'Fore I see him 'live an' well— 'Im the best beside the ford. ”

“ For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play, The regiment's in 'ollow square—they're hangin' him to-day; They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away, An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. ”

“ Oh, strike your camp an' go, the Bugle's callin', The Rains are fallin'— The dead are bushed an' stoned to keep 'em safe below; The Band's a-doin' all she knows to cheer us; The Chaplain's gone and prayed to Gawd to 'ear us— To 'ear us— O Lord, for it's a-killin' of us so! Since August, when it started, it's been stickin' to our tail, Though they've 'ad us out by marches an' they've 'ad us back by rail; But it runs as fast as troop-trains, and we cannot get away; An' the sick-list to the Colonel makes ten more to-day. There ain't no fun in women nor there ain't no bite to drink ”

“ We've fought 'em in trooper, we've fought 'em in dock, and drunk with 'em in betweens, When they called us the seasick scull'ry-maids, an' we called 'em the Ass Marines; But, when we was down for a double fatigue, from Woolwich to Bernardmyo, We sent for the Jollies—'Er Majesty's Jollies—soldier an' sailor too! They think for 'emselves, an' they steal for 'emselves, and they never ask what's to do, But they're camped an' fed an' they're up an' fed before our bugle's blew. Ho! they ain't no limpin' procrastitutes—soldier an' sailor too. ”

“ But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call the bargain fair, For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square! 'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive, An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead; 'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive, An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead. 'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb! 'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree, 'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn For a Regiment o' British Infantree! So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan; You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man ”

“ When the drunken comrade mutters and the great guard-lantern gutters And the horror of our fall is written plain, Every secret, self-revealing on the aching white-washed ceiling, Do you wonder that we drug ourselves from pain? ”

“ For you all love the screw-guns... The eagles is screamin' around us, the river's a-moanin' below, We're clear o' the pine an' the oak-scrub, we're out on the rocks an' the snow, An' the wind is as thin as a whip-lash what carries away to the plains The rattle an' stamp o' the lead-mules— the jinglety-jink o' the chains—'Tss! ”

“ For you all love the screw-guns... If a man doesn't work, why, we drills 'im an' teaches 'im 'ow to behave; If a beggar can't march, why, we kills 'im an' rattles 'im into 'is grave. You've got to stand up to our business an' spring without snatchin' or fuss. ”

“ For to admire an' for to see, For to be'old this world so wide— It never done no good to me, But I can't drop it if I tried! ”

“ When you get to a man in the case, They're like as a row of pins— For the Colonel's Lady an' Judy O'Grady Are sisters under their skins! ”

“ They called us out of the barrack-yard To Gawd knows where from Gosport Hard, And you can't refuse when you get the card, And the Widow gives the party. (Bugle: Ta—rara—ra-ra-rara!) “What did you get to eat and drink, Johnnie, Johnnie?” Standing water as thick as ink, Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha! A bit o' beef that were three year stored, A bit o' mutton as tough as a board, And a fowl we killed with a sergeant's sword, When the Widow give the party. “What did you do for knives and forks, Johnnie, Johnnie?” We carries 'em with us wherever we walks, Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha! ”

“ We know all about 'em, They've got all to find! Cheer for the Sergeant's weddin'— Give 'em one cheer more! Grey gun-'orses in the lando, An' a rogue is married to, etc. What's the use o' tellin' 'Arf the lot she's been? 'E's a bloomin' robber, An' 'e keeps canteen. 'Ow did 'e get 'is buggy? Gawd, you needn't ask! 'Made 'is forty gallon Out of every cask! Watch 'im, with 'is 'air cut, Count us filin' by— Won't the Colonel praise 'is Pop—u—lar—i—ty! We 'ave scores to settle— Scores for more than beer; She's the girl to pay 'em— That is why we're 'ere! ”

“ We socks 'im with a stretcher-pole an' 'eads 'im off in front, An' when we've saved 'is bloomin' life 'e chaws our bloomin' arm. The 'orse 'e knows above a bit, the bullock's but a fool, The elephant's a gentleman, the battery-mule's a mule; But the commissariat cam-u-el, when all is said an' done, 'E's a devil an' a ostrich an' a orphan-child in one. O the oont, O the oont, O the Gawd-forsaken oont! The lumpy-'umpy 'ummin'-bird a-singin' where 'e lies, 'E's blocked the whole division from the rear-guard to the front, An' when we get him up again—the beggar goes an' dies! ”

“ But I strook 'im cruel 'ard, an' I wish I 'adn't now, Which is just what a man can't do. 'E was all that I 'ad in the way of a friend, An' I've 'ad to find one new; But I'd give my pay an' stripe for to get the beggar back, Which it's just too late to do. So it's knock out your pipes an' follow me! An' it's finish off your swipes an' follow me! Oh, 'ark to the fifes a-crawlin'! Follow me—follow me 'ome! Take 'im away! 'E's gone where the best men go. Take 'im away! An' the gun-wheels turnin' slow. Take 'im away! There's more from the place 'e come. Take 'im away, with the limber an' the drum. ”

“ But I wish I was dead 'fore I done what I did, Or seen what I seed that day!
'The Men that fought at Minden' A Song of Instruction The men that fought at Minden, they was rookies in their time— So was them that fought at Waterloo! All the 'ole command, yuss, from Minden to Maiwand, They was once dam' sweeps like you! Then do not be discouraged, 'Eaven is your 'elper, We'll learn you not to forget; An' you mustn't swear an' curse, or you'll only catch it worse, For we'll make you soldiers yet! The men that fought at Minden, they 'ad stocks beneath their chins, Six inch 'igh an' more ”

“ Troopin' (Our Army in the East) Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea: 'Ere's September come again—the six-year men are free. O leave the dead be'ind us, for they cannot come away To where the ship's a-coalin' up that takes us 'ome to-day. We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome, Our ship is at the shore, An' you must pack your 'aversack, For we won't come back no more. Ho, don't you grieve for me, My lovely Mary-Ann, For I'll marry you yit on a fourp'ny bit As a time-expired man. The Malabar's in 'arbour with the Jumner at 'er tail, An' the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders for to sail. ”

“ So I'll meet 'im later on At the place where 'e is gone— Where it's always double drill and no canteen; 'E'll be squattin' on the coals Givin' drink to poor damned souls, An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din! Yes, Din! Din! Din! You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din! Though I've belted you and flayed you, By the livin' Gawd that made you, You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
Oonts (Northern India Transport Train) Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 'im to perspire? It isn't standin' up to charge nor lyin' down to fire ”

“ You can go where you please, you can skid up the trees, but you don't get away from the guns! They sends us along where the roads are, but mostly we goes where they ain't: We'd climb up the side of a sign-board an' trust to the stick o' the paint: We've chivied the Naga an' Looshai, we've give the Afreedeeman fits, For we fancies ourselves at two thousand, we guns that are built in two bits—'Tss! ”

“ Not so fond of abby-nay, kul, nor hazar-ho, Learns to keep 'is rifle an' 'isself jus' so! The young recruit is 'appy—'e throws a chest to suit; You see 'im grow mustaches; you 'ear 'im slap 'is boot; 'E learns to drop the “bloodies” from every word 'e slings, An' 'e shows an 'ealthy brisket when 'e strips for bars an' rings. The cruel-tyrant-sergeants they watch 'im 'arf a year; They watch 'im with 'is comrades, they watch 'im with 'is beer ”

“ An' now 'e's 'arf o' nothin', an' all a private yet, 'Is room they up an' rags 'im to see what they will get; They rags 'im low an' cunnin', each dirty trick they can, But 'e learns to sweat 'is temper an' 'e learns to sweat 'is man. An', last, a Colour-Sergeant, as such to be obeyed, 'E schools 'is men at cricket, 'e tells 'em on parade; They sees 'em quick an' 'andy, uncommon set an' smart, An' so 'e talks to orficers which 'ave the Core at 'eart. ”

“ Then we was shifted to Neemuch (Or I might ha' been keepin' 'er now) , An' I took with a shiny she-devil, The wife of a nigger at Mhow; 'Taught me the gipsy-folks' bolee; Kind o' volcano she were, For she knifed me one night 'cause I wished she was white, And I learned about women from 'er! Then I come 'ome in the trooper, 'Long of a kid o' sixteen— Girl from a convent at Meerut, The straightest I ever 'ave seen. Love at first sight was 'er trouble, She didn't know what it were; An' I wouldn't do such, 'cause I liked 'er too much, But—I learned about women from 'er! ”

“ It's none so bad o' Sunday, when you're lyin' at your ease, To watch the kites a-wheelin' round them feather-'eaded trees, For although there ain't no women, yet there ain't no barrick-yards, So the orficers goes shootin' an' the men they plays at cards. ”

“ For monthly, after Labour, We'd all sit down and smoke (We dursn't give no banquits, Lest a Brother's caste were broke) , An' man on man got talkin' Religion an' the rest, An' every man comparin' Of the God 'e knew the best. So man on man got talkin', An' not a Brother stirred Till mornin' waked the parrots An' that dam' brain-fever-bird; We'd say 'twas 'ighly curious, An' we'd all ride 'ome to bed, With Mo'ammed, God, an' Shiva Changin' pickets in our 'ead. ”

“ Take 'old o' the Wings o' the Mornin', An' flop round the earth till you're dead; But you won't get away from the tune that they play To the bloomin' old rag over'ead. (Poor beggars!—it's 'ot over'ead!) Then 'ere's to the sons o' the Widow, Wherever, 'owever they roam. 'Ere's all they desire, an' if they require A speedy return to their 'ome. (Poor beggars!—they'll never see 'ome!)
Belts There was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dublin Quay, Between an Irish regiment an' English cavalree ”

“ They'll let me free o' the barricks to walk on the Hoe again In the name o' William Parsons, that used to be Edward Clay, An'—any pore beggar that wants it can draw my fourpence a day! Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again: Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant, Out o' the cold an' the rain. 'Oo's there? A man that's too good to be lost you, A man that is 'andled an' made— A man that will pay what 'e cost you In learnin' the others their trade—parade! ”