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George N. Morang dL Company, Limited 
 
 Kiplingr, Rudyard 
 
 Kipling's Complete Works: 
 
 net. 
 
 Y 
 
 The Set : seventeen volumes, $17.50 
 
 1. Plain Tales from the Hills, (including Prof. Norton's Sketch). 
 
 2. Soldiers Three. Story of the Gadsbys. In Black and White. 
 
 3. Under the Deodars. The Phantom Rickshaw. Wee Willie 
 
 Winkie. 
 
 4. Departmental Ditties. Ballads, and Barrack-Room Ballads. 
 
 5. Life's Handicap : Being Stories of My Own People. 
 
 6. The Naulahka. 12. 
 
 7. Many Inventions. 13. 
 
 8. The Light that Failed. 14. 
 
 9. The Jungle Book. 15. 
 
 10. The Second Jungle Book. 16. 
 
 11. The Seven Seas. 17. 
 
 Captains Courageous. 
 
 The Day's Work. 
 
 From Sea to Sea. Vol. I. 
 
 From Sea to Sea. Vol. II. 
 
 Stalky & Co. 
 
 Kim. 
 
 Canadian Copyright Edition: Price each, i2mo., cloth, gilt top, 
 
 $100 ; paper, 50c. 
 
 1. The Light that Failed. 
 
 2. Plain Tales from the Hills. 
 
 3. Life's Handicap. 
 
 4. Soldiers Three. Story of the Gadsbys. In Black and White. 
 
 5. Under the Deodars. The Phantom Rickshaw. Wee Willie 
 
 V/inkie. 
 
 6. Departmental Ditties. Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads. 
 
 The Seven Seas. Crown 8vo. Cloth, ornamental, gilt top, $1.50. 
 
 From Sea to Sea. Cloth, i2mo. 2 vols., $1.00 per vol. 
 
 The Day's Work. W th eight full page illustrations. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth, gilt top, $1.50 ; paper, 75c. 
 
 Stalky & Co. With eight full page illustrations. Crown 8vo. 
 Cloth, gilt top, $1.50; paper, 75c. 
 
 The Jungle Books. Two vols. Illustrated. Each : $1.50 net. 
 
 Kim. Cloth, gilt top, lo full-page illustrations, $1.50. Paper 75C. 
 
 The Five Nations. Cioih, lamo., $1.50. 
 
 Just So Stories for Little Children. Fully illustrated by the 
 author. Cloth, quarto, gilt top, $1.50. 
 
DE] 
 
DEPARTMENTAL DITTIES 
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
l^ 
 
 Departmental 
 Ditties Ballads 
 AND Barrack Room 
 Ballads 
 
 By Rudyard Kipling 
 
 Author of "The Day's Work," 
 "The Seven Seas," 
 " The Jungle Books," etc. 
 
 TORONTO 
 GEORGE N. MORANG & COMPANY, Limited 
 
 New York 
 
 DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE CO. 
 1899 
 
 
 
 /."'i 
 
 
 V9 
 
 <^AW^^\y 
 
 / 
 
I ' 
 
 
 1^ 
 
 '<i 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 DEPARTMENTAL DITIIES 
 
 General Summary 
 
 Army Headquarters . 
 
 Study of an Elevation, in Indian Ink 
 
 Delilah 
 
 A Legend of the Foreign Office 
 The Story of Uriah . 
 The Post that fitted . 
 A Code of Morals 
 Public Waste . 
 
 • • • 
 
 What happened 
 
 The Man who could write 
 
 Pink Dominoes 
 
 • • • 
 
 Municipal 
 
 The Last Department 
 
 OTHER VERSES 
 My Rival . . . ^ 
 To the Unknown Goddess 
 The Rupaiyat of Omar Kal'vin 
 Pagett, M. P. . . , 
 La Nuit Blanche 
 The Lovers' Litany . 
 
 6 
 
 PAGB 
 II 
 
 13 
 16 
 18 
 22 
 
 25 
 27 
 
 30 
 
 34 
 
 37 
 40 
 
 43 
 46 
 
 49 
 
 53 
 56 
 58 
 6i 
 64 
 68 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Ballad of Burial «o 
 
 The Overland Mail y^ 
 
 Divided Destinies ye 
 
 The Masque of Plenty y8 
 
 The Mare's Nest $a 
 
 The Ballad of Fisher's Boarding-house .... 87 
 
 PossibiHties 02 
 
 Arithmetic on the Frontier g^ 
 
 The Song of the Women 96 
 
 The Betrothed go 
 
 A Ballade of Jakko Hill 104 
 
 The Plea of the Simla Dancers 106 
 
 " As the Bell clinks " 109 
 
 Christmas in India . . . . , . . .113 
 
 The Grave of the Hundred Head ii6 
 
 An Old Song I2i 
 
 Certain Maxims of Hafiz 125 
 
 The Moon of Other Days 131 
 
 The Fall of Jock Gillespie 133 
 
 What the People said 136 
 
 The Undertaker's Horse 130 
 
 One Viceroy resigns 142 
 
 The Galley-slave lei 
 
 A Tale of Tvi^o Cities 156 
 
 In Spring Time 160 
 
 Giffen's Debt 162 
 
 Two Months, In June 165 
 
 Two Months. In September . . . . . .166 
 
 L'Envoi . . . , , 167 
 
PRELUDE 
 
 / have eaten your bread and salt, 
 I have drunk your wat-r and wine; 
 
 The deaths ye died I have watched beside. 
 And the lives that ye led were mine. 
 
 Was there aught that I did not share 
 
 In vigil or toil or ease, — 
 One joy or woe that I did not know. 
 
 Dear hearts across the seas? 
 
 I have written the tale of our life 
 
 For a sheltered people 's mirth, 
 In jesting guise — but ye are wise, 
 
 And ye know what the jest is worth. 
 
DEPARTMENTAL DITTIES 
 
GENERAL SUMMARY 
 
 We are very slightly changed 
 From the semi-apes who ranged 
 
 India's prehistoric clay ; 
 Whoso drew the longest bow 
 Ran his brother down, you know. 
 
 As we run men down to-day. 
 
 "Dowb," the first of all his race, 
 Met the Mammoth face to face 
 
 On the lake or in the cave, 
 Stole the steadiest canoe, 
 Ate the quarry others slew. 
 
 Died — and took the finest grave. 
 
 When they scratched the reindeer-bone, 
 Some one made the sketch his own, 
 
 Filched it from the artist — then, 
 Even in those early days, 
 Won a simple Viceroy's praise 
 
 Through the toil of other men. 
 U 
 
12 GENERAL SUMMARY 
 
 Ere they hewed the Sphinx's visage 
 Favouritism governed kissage, 
 Even as it does in this age. 
 
 Who shall doubt the secret hid 
 Under Cheops' pyramid 
 Was that the contractor did 
 
 Cheops out of several millions? 
 Or that Joseph's sudden rise 
 To Comptroller of Supplies 
 Was a fraud of monstrous size 
 
 On King Pharaoh's swart Civilian? 
 
 Thus, the artless songs I sing 
 Do not deal with anything 
 
 New or never said before. 
 As it was in the beginning 
 Is to-day official sinning, 
 
 And shall be for evermore. 
 
 i i 
 
ARMY HEAD-QUARTERS 
 
 Old is the song that I sing — 
 
 Old as my unpaid bills — 
 Old as the chicken that kitmutgars bring 
 
 Men at ddk-bungalows — old as the Hills. 
 
 Ahasuerus Jenkins of the " Operatic Own," 
 Was dowered with a tenor voice of j«/^r-Santley tone. 
 His views on equitation were, perhaps, a trifle queer ; 
 He had no seat worth mentioning, but oh ! he had an 
 ear. 
 
 He clubbed his wretched company a dozen times a 
 
 day. 
 He used to leave his charger in a parabolic way. 
 His method of saluting was the joy of all beholders. 
 But Ahasuerus Jenkins had a head upon his shoulders. 
 
 He took two months at Simla when the year was at 
 
 the spring. 
 And underneath the deodars eternally did sing. 
 
 13 
 
u 
 
 ARMY HEAD-QUARTERS 
 
 He warbled like a bul-buly but particularly at 
 Cornelia Agrippina, who was musical and fat. 
 
 She controlled a humble husband, who, in turn, con- 
 trolled a Dept., 
 
 Where Cornelia Agrippina's human singing-birds were 
 kept 
 
 From April to October on a plump retaining fee, 
 
 Supplied, of course, per mensem^ by the Indian Treas- 
 ury. 
 
 Cornelia used to sing to him, and Jenkins used to 
 
 He praised unblushingly her notes, for he was false as 
 
 they; 
 So when the winds of April turned the budding roses 
 
 brown, 
 Cornelia told her husband : — Tom, you mustn't send 
 
 him down. 
 
 They haled him from his regiment, which didn't much 
 
 regret him ; 
 They found for him an office-stool, and on that stool 
 
 they set him. 
 
ARMY HEAD-QUARTERS 
 
 15 
 
 To play with maps and catalogues three idle hours a 
 
 day, 
 And draw his plump retaining fee — which means his 
 
 double pay. 
 
 Now, ever after dinner, when the coffee-cups are 
 
 brought, 
 Ahasuerus waileth o'er the grand pianoforte ; 
 And, thanks to fair Cornelia, his fame hath waxen 
 
 great, 
 And Ahasuerus Jenkins is a power in the State ! 
 
STUDY OF AN ELEVATION, IN INDIAN INK 
 
 This ditty is a string of lies. 
 
 But — how the deuce did Gubbins rise t 
 
 PoTiPHAR Gubbins, C. E., 
 Stands at the top of the tree ; 
 And I muse in my bed on the reasons that led 
 To the hoisting of Potiphar G. 
 
 Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., 
 Is seven years junior to Me ; 
 Each bridge that he makes either buckles or breaks, 
 And his work is as rough as he. 
 
 Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., 
 Is coarse as a chimpanzee ; 
 And I can't understand why you gave him your hand, 
 Lovely Mehitabel Lee. 
 
 Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., 
 Is dear to the Powers that Be ; 
 16 
 
STUDY OF AN ELEVATION, IN INIJIAN INK 17 
 
 For They bow and They smile in an affable style, 
 Which is seldom accorded to Me. 
 
 s[K 
 
 Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., 
 Is certain as certain can be 
 Of a highly paid post which is claimed by a host 
 Of seniors — including Me. 
 
 Careless and lazy is he, 
 Greatly inferior to Me. 
 What is the spell that you manage so well, 
 Commonplace Potiphar G. ? 
 
 s, 
 
 Lovely Mehitabel Lee, 
 Let me inquire of thee, 
 Should I have riz to where Potiphar is 
 
 Hadst thou been mated to Me ? 
 
DELILAH 
 
 We have another Viceroy now, those days are . jud 
 
 and done 
 Of Delilah Aberyswith and depraved Ulysses Gunne. 
 
 Delilah Aberyswith was a lady — not too young — 
 With a perfect taste in dresses and a badly bitted 
 
 tongue, 
 With a thirst for information, and a greater thirst for 
 
 praise, 
 And a little house in Simla in the Prehistoric Days. 
 
 By reason of her marriage to a gentleman in power, 
 Delilah was acquainted with the gossip of the hour ; 
 And many little secrets, of a half-official kind, 
 Were whispered to Dehlah, and she bore them all in 
 mind. 
 
 She patronized extensively a man, Ulysses Gunne, 
 Whose mode of earning money was a low and shame- 
 ful one. 
 
 18 
 
DELILAH 
 
 10 
 
 He wrote for divers papers, which, as everybody 
 
 knows, 
 Is worse than serving in a shop or scaring off the 
 
 crows. 
 
 He praised her queenly beauty first ; and, later on, he 
 hinted 
 
 At the vastness of her intellect with compliment un- 
 stinted ; 
 
 He went with her a-riding, and his love for her was 
 such 
 
 That he lent her all his horses and — she galled them 
 very much. 
 
 One day They brewed a secret of a fine financial 
 
 sort; 
 It related to Appointments, to a Man and a Report. 
 'Twas almost worth the keeping [only seven people 
 
 knew it]. 
 So Gunne rose up to seek the truth and patiently 
 
 ensue it. 
 
 It was a Viceroy's Secret, but — perhaps the wine was 
 
 red — 
 Perhaps an Aged CounciUor had lost his aged head — 
 
20 
 
 DELILAH 
 
 Perhaps Delilah's eyes were bright — Delilah's whis- 
 pers sweet — 
 
 The Aged Member told her what 'twere treason to 
 repeat. 
 
 Ulysses went a-riding, and they talked of love and 
 
 flowers j 
 Ulysses went a-calling, and he called for several hours ; 
 Ulysses went a-waltzing, and Delilah helped him 
 
 dance — 
 Ulysses let the waltzes go, and waited for his chance. 
 
 The summer sun was setting, and the summer air was 
 
 still, 
 The couple went a-walking in the shade of Summer 
 
 Hill, 
 The wasteful sunset faded out in turkis-green and 
 
 gold, 
 Ulysses pleaded softly, and . . . that bad Delilah 
 
 told ! 
 
 Next morn, a startled Empire learnt the all-important 
 
 News; 
 Next week, the Aged Councillor was shaking in his 
 
 shoes j 
 
DELILAH 
 
 21 
 
 Next month, I met Delilah, and she did not show the 
 
 least 
 Hesitation in asserting that Ulysses was a " beast." 
 
 We have another Viceroy now, those days are dead 
 
 and done — 
 Of Delilah Aberyswith and most mean Ulysses Gunne ! 
 
A LEGEND OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE 
 
 This is the reason why Rustum Beg, 
 
 Rajah of Kolazai, 
 Drinketh the "simpkin^^ and brar.dy peg, 
 
 Maketh the mo ney to fly, 
 Vexeth a Governme?it, tender and kind, 
 Also — but this is a detail — blind. 
 
 Rustum Beg of Kolazai — slightly backward Native 
 
 State — 
 Lusted for a C. S. I. — so began to sanitate. 
 Built a Gaol and Hospital — nearly built a City 
 
 drain — 
 Till his faithful subjects all thought their ruler was 
 
 insane. 
 
 Strange departures made he then — yea, Departments 
 
 stranger still, 
 Haifa dozen Englishmen helped the Rajah with a will, 
 Talked of noble aims and high, hinted of a future fine 
 For the State of Kolazai, on a strictly Western line. 
 
 22 
 
A LEGEND OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE 23 
 
 Rajah Rustum held his peace ; lowered octroi dues 
 
 one half; 
 Organized a State Police ; purified the Civil Stf,ff ; 
 Settled cess and tax afresh in a very liberal way ; 
 Cut temptations of the flesh — also cut the Bukhshi's 
 
 pay; 
 
 Roused his Secretariat to a fine Mahratta fury, 
 By a Hookum hinting at supervision of dasturi; 
 Turned the state of Kolazai very nearly upside-down ; 
 When the end of May was nigh waited his achieve- 
 ment crown. 
 
 Then the Birthday honours came. Sad to state and 
 
 sad to see, 
 Stood against the Rajah's name nothing more than 
 
 C. I. E. ! 
 
 Things were lively for a week in the State of Kolazai, 
 Even now the people speak of that time regretfully ; 
 
 How he disendowed the Gaol — stopped at once the 
 
 City drain ; 
 Turned to beauty fair and frail — got his senses back 
 
 again ; 
 
¥ i 
 
 24 A LEGEND OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE 
 
 Doubled taxes, cesses all ; cleared away each new-built 
 tJiatia ; 
 
 Turned the two-lakh Hospital into a superb Zenana ; 
 
 Heaped upon the Bukhshi Sahib wealth and honours 
 manifold ; 
 
 Clad himself in Eastern garb — squeezed his people 
 as of old. 
 
 Happy, happy Kolazai ! Never more will Rustum 
 Beg 
 
 Play to catch the Viceroy's eye. He prefers the 
 '' simpkin " peg. 
 
THE STORY OF URIAH 
 
 ''Now there were two men in one city; the one rich, 
 and the other poor'' 
 
 Jack Barrett went to Quetta 
 
 Because they told him to. 
 He left his wife at Simla 
 
 On three-fourths his monthly screw. 
 Jack Barrett died at Quetta 
 
 Ere the next month's pay he drew. 
 
 Jack Barrett went to Quetta, 
 
 He didn't understand 
 The reason of his transfer 
 
 From the pleasant mountain-land : 
 The season was September, 
 
 And it killed him out of hand. 
 
 Jack Barrett went to Quetta 
 
 And there gave up the gliost : 
 Attempting two men's duty 
 
 In that very healthy post ; 
 26 
 
t ^1 
 
 26 THE STORY OF URIAH 
 
 And Mrs. Barrett mourned for him 
 Five lively months at most. 
 
 Jack Barrett's bones at Quetta 
 Enjoy profound repose ; 
 
 But I shouldn't be astonished 
 If now his spirit knows 
 
 The reason of his transfer 
 From the Himalayan snows. 
 
 And, when the Last Great Bugle Call 
 
 Adown the Hurnai throbs, 
 When the last grim joke is entered 
 
 In the big black Book of Jobs, 
 And Quetta graveyards give again 
 
 Their victims to the air, 
 I shouldn't like to be the man, 
 
 Who sent Jack Barrett there. 
 
 i 
 
THE POST THAT FITTED 
 
 Though tajigled and hvisted the course of true love, 
 
 litis ditty explains 
 No tangle'' s so tangled it catinot improve 
 
 If the Lover has brains. 
 
 Ere the steamer bore him Eastward, Sleary was 
 
 engaged to marry 
 An attractive girl at Tunbridge, whom h& called " rny 
 
 little Carrie." 
 Sleary's pay was very modest ; Sleary was the other 
 
 way. 
 Who can cook a two-plate dinner on eight paltry dibs 
 
 a day? 
 
 Long he pondered o'er the question in his scantly 
 
 furnished quarters — 
 Then proposed to Minnie Boffkin, eldest of Judge 
 
 Boffkin's daughters. 
 Certamly an impecunious Subaltern was not a catch, 
 But the Boffkins knew that Minnie mightn't make 
 
 another match. 
 
 27 
 
28 
 
 THE POST THAT FITTED 
 
 So they recognized the business and, to feed and clothe 
 
 the bride, 
 Got him made a Something-Something somewhere on 
 
 the Bombay side. 
 Anyhow, the billet carried pay enough for him to 
 
 marry — 
 As the artless Sleary put it : — " Just the thing for me 
 
 and Carrie." 
 
 Did he, therefore, jilt Miss Boffkin — impulse of a 
 
 baser mind? 
 No ! He started epileptic fits of an appalling kind. 
 [Of his modus operandi only this much I could 
 
 gather ; — 
 "Pears' shaving sticks will give you little taste and 
 
 lots of lather."] 
 
 Frequently in public places his affliction used to 
 
 smite 
 Sleary with distressing vigour — always in the Boff kins' 
 
 sight. 
 Ere a week was over Minnie weepingly returned his 
 
 ring, 
 Told him his " unhappy weakness " stopped all thought 
 
 of marrying. 
 
THE POST THAT FITTED 
 
 29 
 
 Sleary bore the information with a chastened holy 
 
 joy, — 
 [Epileptic fits don't matter in I olitical employ,] 
 Wired three short words to Carrie — took his ticket, 
 
 packed his kit — 
 Bade farewell to Minnie Boffkin in one last, long, 
 
 lingering fit. 
 
 Four weeks later, Carrie Sleary read — and laughed 
 
 until she wept — 
 Mrs. Bofifkin's warning letter on the "wretched 
 
 epilept." 
 Year by year, in pious patience, vengeful Mrs. Boffkin 
 
 sits 
 Waiting for the Sleary babies to develop Sleary's fits. 
 
!J 
 
 I 1 
 
 
 it 
 
 til 
 
 i 
 
 A CODE OF MORALS 
 
 Lest you should think this story true 
 I tnerely mention I 
 Evolved it lately. ' Tis a most 
 Unmitigated misstatement. 
 
 Now Jones had left his new-wed bride to keep his 
 
 house in order, 
 And hied away to the Hurrum Hills above the Afghan 
 
 border, 
 To sit on a rock with a heliograph; but ere he left 
 
 he taught 
 His wife the working of the Code that sets the miles 
 
 at naught. 
 
 il; 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 And Love had made him very sage, as Nature made 
 
 her fair ; 
 So Cupid and Apollo linked, per heliograph, the pair. 
 At dawn, across the Hurrum Hills, he flashed her 
 
 counsel wise — 
 At e'en, the dying sunset bore her husband's homilies. 
 
 30 
 
 %. 
 
A CODE OF MORALS 
 
 31 
 
 He warned her 'gainst seductive youths in scarlet clad 
 
 and gold, 
 As much as 'gainst the blandishments paternal of the 
 
 old; 
 But kept his gravest warnings for (hereby my ditty 
 
 hangs) 
 That snowy-haired Lothario, Lieutenant-General 
 
 Bangs. 
 
 'Twas General Bangs, with Aide and Staff, that tit- 
 tupped on the way, 
 
 When they beheld a heliograph tempestuously at play. 
 
 They thought of Border risings, and of stations sacked 
 and burnt — 
 
 So stopped to take the message down — and this is 
 what they learnt : — 
 
 " Dash dot dot, dot, dot dash, dot dash dot " twice. 
 
 The General swore. 
 " Was ever General Officer addressed as * dear ' 
 
 before ? 
 " * My Love,' i' faith ! * My Duck,' Gadzooks ! ' My 
 
 darling popsy-wop ! ' 
 "Spirit of great Lord Wolseley, who is on that 
 
 mountain top ? " 
 
IH 
 
 I 
 
 h 
 
 P 
 
 H 
 
 ■I! 
 h 'I 
 
 I i I 
 
 ^1 i 
 
 32 
 
 A CODE OF MORALS 
 
 The artless Aide-de-camp was mute ; the gilded Staff 
 were still, 
 
 As, dumb with pent-up mirth, they booked that mes- 
 sage from the hill ; 
 
 For clear as summer-lightning flare, the husband's 
 
 warnmg ran 
 
 "Don't dance or ride with General Bangs — a most 
 in: moral man." 
 
 [At dawn, across the Hurrum Hills, he flashed her 
 
 counsel wise — 
 But, howsoever Love be blind, the world at large hath 
 
 eyes.] 
 With damnatory dot and dash he heliographed his 
 
 wife 
 Some interesting details of the General's private life. 
 
 The artless Aide-de-camp was mute ; the shining Staff 
 
 were still, 
 And red and e^er redder grew the General's shaven 
 
 gill. 
 And this is what he said at last (his feelings matter 
 
 not) : — 
 " I think we've tapped a private line. Hi ! Threes 
 
 about there ! Trot ! " 
 
 H 
 
A CODE OF MORALS 
 
 33 
 
 All honour unto Bangs, for ne'er did Jones thereafter 
 know 
 
 By word or act official who read off that helio. ; 
 But the tale is on the Frontier, and from Michni to 
 Mooltan 
 
 They know the worthy General as "that most immoral 
 man." 
 
 Mi 
 
M 
 
 i t 
 
 ff 
 
 If 
 
 PUBLIC WASTE 
 
 p ■ 
 
 •':■ '. 
 i '' 
 
 ■4 i 
 
 V 
 
 Walpole talks of " a man and his price ^^ 
 List to a ditty queer — 
 
 The sale of a Deputy-Acting- Vice- 
 Resident- Engineer 
 
 Bought like a bullock, hoof and hide. 
 
 By the Little Tin Gods on the Mountain Side. 
 
 By the laws of the Family Circle 'tis written in letters 
 
 of brass 
 That only a Colonel from Chatham can manage the 
 
 Railways of State, 
 Because of the gold on his breeks, and the subjects 
 
 wherein he must pass ; 
 Because in all matters that deal not with Railways his 
 
 knowledge is great. 
 
 Now Exeter Battleby Tring had laboured from boy- 
 hood to eld 
 
 On the Lines of the East and the West, likewise of the 
 North and South ; 
 
 34 
 
 U ■' 
 
 )' 4 
 
PUBLIC WASTE 
 
 35 
 
 Many lines had he built and surveyed — important the 
 
 posts which he held ; 
 And the Lords of the Iron Horse were dumb when he 
 
 opened his mouth. 
 
 Black as the raven his garb, and his heresies jettier 
 
 still — 
 Hinting that Railways required lifetimes of study and 
 
 knowledge — 
 Never clanked sword by his side — Vauban he knew 
 
 not, nor drill — 
 Nor was his name on the list of men who had passed 
 
 through the " College." 
 
 I 
 
 Wherefore the Little Tin Gods harried their little tin 
 souls, 
 
 Seeing he came not from Chatham, jingled no spurs at 
 his heeli, 
 
 Knowing that, nevertheless, was he first on the Gov- 
 ernment rolls 
 
 For the billet of " Railway Instructor to Little Tin 
 Gods on Wheels." 
 
 Letters not seldom they wrote him, "having the 
 honour to state," 
 
 .^■■11^: 
 
i i 
 
 ^% 
 
 
 36 
 
 PUBLIC WASTE 
 
 It would be better for all men if he were laid on thfi 
 shefi": 
 
 Much would accrue to his bank-book an he con- 
 sented to wait 
 
 Until the Little Tin Gods built him a berth for him- 
 self. 
 
 J. 
 
 " Special, well paid, and exempt from the Law of the 
 Fifty and Five, 
 
 Even to Ninety and Nine " — these were the terms of 
 the pact : 
 
 Thus did the Little Tin Gods (long may Their High- 
 nesses thrive ! ) 
 
 Silence his mouth with rupees, keeping their Circle 
 intact ; 
 
 Appointing a Colonel from Chatham who managed 
 the Bhamo State Line, 
 
 (The which was one mile and one furlong — a guaran- 
 teed twenty-inch gauge) 
 
 So Exeter Batdeby Tring consented his claims to 
 resign, 
 
 And died, on four thousand a month, in the ninetieth 
 year of his age 1 
 
 h : 
 
 ' ^i 
 
WHAT HAPPENED 
 
 HuRREE Chunder Mookerjee, pride of Bow Bazar, 
 Owner of a native press, ** Barrishter-at-Lan" 
 Waited on the Government with a flaim to wear 
 Sabres by the bucketful, rifles by the pair. 
 
 Then the Indian Government winked a wicked wink, 
 Said to Chunder Mookerjee : " Stick to pen and ink. 
 They are safer implements, but, if you insist. 
 We will let you carry arms wheresoe'er you list." 
 
 Hurree Chunder Mookerjee sought the gunsmith and 
 Bought the tubes of Lancaster, Ballard, Dean, and 
 
 Bland, 
 Bought a shiny bowie-knife, bought a town-made 
 
 sword. 
 Jingled like a carriage-horse when he went abroad. 
 
 But the Indian Government, always keen to please, 
 Also gave permission to horrid men like these — 
 Yar Mahommed Yusefzai, down to kill or steal ; 
 Chirabu Singh from Bikancer, Tantia the Bhil ; 
 
 37 
 
38 
 
 WHAT HAPPENED 
 
 Killar Khan the Marri chief, Jowar Singh the Sikh, 
 Nubbee Baksh Punjabi Jat, Abdul Huq Rafiq — 
 He was a Wahabi ; last, little Boh Hla-oo 
 Took advantage of the Act — took a Snider too. 
 
 They were unenlightened men, Ballard knew them not, 
 They procured their swords and guns chiefly on the 
 
 spot, 
 And the lore of centuries, plus a hundred fights, 
 Made them slow to disregard one another's rights. 
 
 With a unanimity dear to patriot hearts 
 
 All those hairy gentlemen out of foreign parts 
 
 Said : " The good old days are back — let us go to 
 
 war ! " 
 Swaggered down the Grand Trunk Road into Bow 
 
 Bazar. 
 
 Nubbee Baksh Punjabi Jat found a hide-bound flail, 
 Chimbu Singh from Bikaneer oiled his Tonk jezail, 
 Yar Mahommed Yusufzai spat and grinned with glee 
 As he ground the butcher-knife of the Khyberee. 
 
 
 Jowar Singh the Sikh procured sabre, quoit, and mace, 
 Abdul Huq, \V^ahabi, took his dagger from its place. 
 
 
WHAT HAPPENED 
 
 39 
 
 While amid the jungle-grass danced and grinned and 
 
 jabbered 
 Little Boh Hla-oo and cleared the dah-blade from the 
 
 scabbard. 
 
 What became of Mookerjee ? Soothly, who can say? 
 Yar Mahommed only grins in a nasty way, 
 Jowar Singh is reticent, Chimbii Singh is mute; 
 But the belts of all of them simply bulge with loot. 
 
 What became of Ballpid's guns? Afghans black and 
 
 grubby 
 Sell them for their silver weight to the men of Pubbi ; 
 And the shiny bowie-knife and the town-made sword 
 
 are 
 Hanging in a Marri camp just across the Border, 
 
 What became of Mookerjee ? Ask Mahommed Yar 
 Prodding Siva's sacred bull down the Bow Bazar. 
 Speak to placid Nubbee Baksh — question land and 
 
 sea — 
 Ask the Indian Congress men — only don't ask me ! 
 
M 
 
 THE MAN WHO COULD WRITE 
 
 Shun — shun the Bowl / That fatal, facile drink 
 Has nmied many geese who dipped their quills mV, 
 
 Bribe, murder, marry, but steer clear of Ink 
 
 Save when you write receip*: for paid-up bills in^t. 
 
 There may be silver in the " blue-black " — all 
 
 I know of is the iron and the gall. 
 
 Boanerges Blitzen, servant of the Queen, 
 Is a dismal failure — is a Might-iiave-been. 
 In a luckless moment he discovered men 
 Rije to high position through a ready pen. 
 
 Boanerges Blitzen argued therefore — " I, 
 With the selfsame weapon, can attain as high." 
 Only he did not possess when he made the trial, 
 Wicked wit of C-lv-n, irony of L — 1. 
 
 'i 
 
 [Men who spar with Government need, to back their 
 
 blows, 
 Something more than ordinary journaHstic prose.] 
 
 40 
 
 ' ' I 
 
 ? k 
 
THE MAN WHO COULD WRITE 41 
 
 Never young Civilian's prospects were s^ bright, 
 I'ill an Indian pape*- found that he could write : 
 Never young Civilian's prospects were so dark, 
 When the wretched Blitzen wrote to make his mark. 
 
 Certainly he scored it, bold, and black, and firm — 
 In that Indian paper made his seniors squirm — 
 Quoted office scandals, wrote the tactless truth — 
 Was there ever known a more misguided youth? 
 
 When the Indian paper praised his picky game, 
 Boanerges Blitzen felt that this was fame : 
 When the men he wrote of shook their heads and swore, 
 Boanerges Blitzen only wrote the more ; 
 
 ■I 
 
 Posed as Young Ithuriel, resolute and grim, 
 Till he found promotion didn't come to him; 
 Till he found that reprimands weekly were his lot, 
 And his many Districts curiously hot. 
 
 Till he found his furlough strangely hard to win, 
 
 Boanerges Blitzen didn't care a pin : 
 
 Then it seemed to dawn on him something wasn't 
 
 right — 
 Boanerges Blitzen put it down to *' spite." 
 
42 
 
 THE MAN WHO COULD WRITE 
 
 •f 
 
 Languished in a District desolate and dry; 
 Watched the Local Government yearly pass him by ; 
 Wondered where the hitch was ; called it most unfair. 
 
 That was seven years ago — and he still is there. 
 
 'l'^ 
 
 N i, 
 
 i r 
 
 it' 
 ^1? ,1 . 
 
 ^ B- II 
 
 •:• I' 
 
 - I 
 
 ■>' 'i 
 
PINK DOMINOES 
 
 " They are fools who kiss and tell" 
 Wisely has the poet sung. 
 Man may hold all sorts of posts 
 If he'' II only hold his tongue. 
 
 Jenny and Me were engaged, you see 
 On the eve of the Fancy Ball ; 
 
 So a kiss or two was nothing to you 
 Or any one else at all. 
 
 Jenny would go in a domino — 
 Pretty and pink but warm ; 
 
 While I attended, clad in a splendid 
 Austrian uniform. 
 
 
 Now we had arranged, through notes exchanged 
 
 Early that afternoon, 
 At Number Four to waltz no more. 
 
 But to sit in the dusk and spoon. 
 
 [I wish you to see that Jenny and Me 
 Had barely exchanged our troth ; 
 
 43 
 
if 
 
 
 44 PINK DOMINOES 
 
 So a kiss or two was strictly due 
 By, from, and between us both.] 
 
 When Three was over, an eager lover, 
 I fled to the gloom outside ; 
 
 And a Domino came out also 
 
 Whom I took for my future bride. 
 
 » |J- ' 
 
 \ I 
 
 1 1* 
 
 That is to say, in a casual way, 
 
 I slipped my arm around her ; 
 With a kiss or two (which is nothing to you), 
 
 And ready to kiss I found her. 
 
 She turned her head and the name she said 
 
 Was certainly not my own ; 
 But ere I could speak, with a smothered shriek 
 
 She fled and left me alone. 
 
 Then Jenny came, and I saw with shame. 
 
 She'd doffed her domino ; 
 And I had embraced a stranger's waist — 
 
 But I did not tell her so. 
 
 li' I 
 
 Next morn I knew that there were two 
 Dominoes pink, and one 
 
 111! 
 
PINK DOMINOES 
 
 Had cloaked the spouse of Sir Julian Vouse, 
 Our big Political gun. 
 
 45 
 
 ill 
 
 a 
 
 Sir J. was old, and her hair was gold, 
 And her eyes were a blue cerulean ; 
 
 And the name she said when she turned her head 
 Was not in the least like " Julian." 
 
 Now wasn't it nice, when want of/>i'ce 
 
 Forbade us twain to marry, 
 That old Sir J. in the kindest way, 
 
 Made me his Seciefarry ? 
 
 \\f 
 
 ?1! 
 
 . u'l 
 
 11 
 
 "J'X 
 
fl 
 
 J!^ 
 
 ;) ■^■|! 
 
 MUNICIPAL 
 
 "IV/iy is my District death-rate low ? " 
 
 Said Binks of Ilczabad. 
 
 " Wells, drains, and selvage-outfalls are 
 
 " My own peci4liar fad. 
 
 " / learnt a lesson once. It ran 
 
 " Thiis,^'' quoth that most veracious man : — 
 
 It was an August evening, and in snowy garments 
 
 clad, 
 I paid a round of visits in the lines of Hezabad ; 
 When, presently, my Waler saw, and did not like at all, 
 A Commissariat elephant careering down the Mall. 
 
 I couldn't sec the driver, and across my mind it rushed 
 That that Commissariat elephant had suddenly gone 
 
 musth. 
 I didn't care to meet him, and I couldn't well get 
 
 down. 
 So I let the Waler have it, and we headed for the 
 
 town. 
 
 46 
 
I i 
 
 MUNICIPAL 
 
 47 
 
 The buggy was a new one and, praise Dykes, it stood 
 
 the strain 
 Till the Waler jumped a bullock just above the City 
 
 Drain ; 
 And the next that I remember was a hurricane of 
 
 squeals, 
 And the creature making toothpicks of my five-foot 
 
 patent wheels. 
 
 He seemed to want the owner, so I fled, distraught 
 with fear. 
 
 To the Main Drain sewage-outfall where he snorted 
 in my ear — 
 
 Reached the four-foot drain-head safely, and in dark- 
 ness and despair, 
 
 Felt the brute's proboscis fingering my terror-stiffened 
 hair. 
 
 Heard it trumpet on my shoulder — tried to crawl a 
 
 little higher — 
 Found the Main Drain sewage-outfall blocked, some 
 
 eight feet up, with mire ; 
 And, for twenty reeking minutes. Sir, my very marrow 
 
 froze, 
 While the trunk was feeling blindly for a purchase on 
 
 my toes ! 
 
 11^ 
 
48 
 
 MUNICIPAL 
 
 H 1 
 
 It missed me by a fraction, but my hair was turning 
 
 gray 
 Before they called the drivers up and dragged the 
 
 brute away. 
 Then I sought the City Elders, and my words were 
 
 very plain. 
 They flushed that four-foot drain-head and — it never 
 
 choked again. 
 
 Si';! 
 
 I|'l 
 
 ;■ Fl 
 
 You may hold with surface- drainage, and the sun-for- 
 
 garbage cure. 
 Till you've been a periwinkle shrinking coyly up a 
 
 sewer. 
 / believe in well-flushed culverts. . . . 
 
 This is why the death-rate's small ; 
 And, if you don't believe me, get shikarred yourself. 
 
 That's all. 
 
 ^\> 
 
1 
 
 THE LAST DEPARTMENT 
 
 Twelve hundred million men are spread 
 About this Earthy and I and You 
 
 Wonder^ when You and I are dead, 
 What will those luckless millions do ? 
 
 " None whole or clean," we cry, " or free from stain 
 Of favour." Wait awhile, till we attain 
 
 The Last Department where nor fraud nor fools, 
 Nor grade nor greed, shall trouble us again. 
 
 Fear, Favour, or Affection — what are these 
 To the grim Head who claims our services? 
 
 I never knew a wife or interest yet 
 Delay tha.tJ>uMa step, miscalled " decease " j 
 
 When leave, long over-due, none can deny ; 
 When idleness of all Eternity 
 
 Becomes our furlough, and the marigold 
 Our thriftless, bullion-minting Treasury 
 
 49 
 
%■ 
 
 50 
 
 THE LAST DEPARTMENT 
 
 i 
 
 Li 
 
 Transferred to the Eternal Settlement, 
 Each in his strait, wood-scantled office pent, 
 No longer Brown reverses Smith's appeals. 
 Or Jones records his Minute of Dissent. 
 
 And One, long since a pillar of the Court, 
 
 As mud between the beams hereof is wrought; 
 
 And One who wrote on phosphates for the crops 
 Is subject-matter of his own Report. 
 
 [These be the glorious ends whereto we pass — 
 Let Him who Is, go call on Him who Was ; 
 
 And He shall see the mallie steals the slab 
 For currie-grinder, and for goats the grass.] 
 
 A breath of wind, a Border bullet's flight, 
 A draught of water, or a horse's fright — 
 
 The droning of the fat Sheristadar 
 Ceases, the punkah stops, and falls the night 
 
 For You or Me. Do those who live decline 
 The step that offers, or their work resign? 
 Trust me. To-day's Most Indispensables, 
 Five hundred men can take your place or mint. 
 
 ^ ,,ij 
 
OTHER VERSES 
 
 ^/ 
 
 ,n 
 
'( 
 
 ■■■I 
 
 # 'I 
 
 
MY RIVAL 
 
 I GO to concert, party, ball — 
 
 What profit is in these? 
 I sit alone against the wall 
 
 And strive to look at ease. 
 The incense that is mine by right 
 
 They burn before Her shrine; 
 And that's because I'm seventeen 
 
 And she is forty-nine. 
 
 I cannot check my girlish blush, 
 
 My colour comes and goes; 
 I redden to my finger-tips. 
 
 And sometimes to my nose. 
 But She is white where white should be 
 
 And red where red should shine. 
 The blush that flies at seventeen 
 
 Is fixed at forty-nine. 
 
 T 
 
 I wish / had Her constant cheek : 
 I wish that I could sing 
 63 
 
, ) I 
 
 ill 
 
 jfi 
 
 54 MY RIVAL 
 
 All sorts of funny little songs, 
 
 Not quite the proper thing. 
 I'm very gauche and very shy, 
 
 Her jokes aren't in my line; 
 And, worst of all, I'm seventeen, 
 
 While She is forty-nine. 
 
 The young men come, the young men go. 
 
 Each pink and white and neat, 
 She's older than their mothers, but 
 
 They grovel at Her feet. 
 They walk beside Her ^ rickshaw -\j\\tfi\!S, — 
 
 They never walk by mine; 
 And that's because I'm seventeen 
 
 And She is forty-nine. 
 
 She rides with half a dozen men 
 
 (She calls them "boys" and "mashers") 
 I trot along the Mall alone; 
 
 My prettiest frocks and sashes 
 Don't help to fill my programme-card, 
 
 And vainly I repine 
 From ten to two a.m. Ah me! 
 
 Would I were forty-nine. 
 
( . 
 
 MY RIVAL 
 
 66 
 
 She calls me "darling," "pet," and "dear," 
 
 And "sweet retiring maid." 
 I'm always at the back, I know, 
 
 She puts me in the shade. 
 She introduces me to men, 
 
 "Cast" lovers, I opine. 
 For sixty takes to seventeen, 
 
 Nineteen to forty-nine. 
 
 'ft 
 
 But even She must older grow 
 
 And end Her dancing days. 
 She can't go on for ever so 
 
 At concerts, balls, and plays. 
 One ray of priceless hope I see 
 
 Before my footsteps shine: 
 Just think, that She'll be eighty-one 
 
 When I am forty-nine 1 
 
 
 
it 
 i 
 
 
 \: I 
 
 TO THE UNKNOWN GODDESS 
 
 Will you conquer my heart vith your beauty; my 
 
 soul going out from afar? 
 Shall I fall to your hand as a ViCtim of crafty and 
 
 cautious shikar? 
 
 Have I met you and passed you already, unknow- 
 ing, unthinking, and blind? 
 
 Shall I meet you next season at Simla, oh sweetest 
 and best of your kind? 
 
 Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad 
 
 in short frocks in the West, 
 Are you growing the charms that shall capture and 
 
 torture the heart in my breast? 
 
 Will you stay in the Plains till September — my 
 
 passion as warm as the day? 
 Will you bring me to book on the Mountains, or 
 
 where the thermantidotes play? 
 
 60 
 
 \\. 
 
TO THE UNKNOWN GODDESS 
 
 67 
 
 When the light of your eyes shall make pallid the 
 
 mean lesser lights I pursue, 
 And the '•harm of your presence shall lure me 
 
 from love of the gay "thirteen-two"; 
 
 When the peg and the pigskin shall please not; 
 
 when I buy me Calcutta-built clothes; 
 When I quit the Delight of Wild Asses; forswearing 
 
 the swearing of oaths; 
 
 As a deer to ine hand of the hunter when I turn 
 
 'mid the gibes of my friends; 
 When the days of my freedom are numbered, and 
 
 the life of the bachelor ends. 
 
 Ah Goddess! child, spinster, or widow — as of old 
 
 on Mars Hill when they raised 
 To the God that they knew not an altar — so I, a 
 
 young Pagan, have praised 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
 
 I ( 
 
 The Goddess I know not nor worship; yet, if half 
 
 that men tell me be true. 
 You will come in the future, and therefore the 
 
 verses are v/ritten to you! 
 
THE RUPAIYAT OF OMAR KAL'VIN 
 
 [Alloiving for the difference Hwixt prose and rhymed 
 exaggeration^ this ought to reproduce the sense of what Sir 
 A told the nation sotne time ago, when the Govern- 
 ment struck from ot^r incomes two per cent.} 
 
 Now the New Year, reviving last Year's Debt, 
 The thoughtful Fisher casteth wide his Net; 
 So I with begging Dish and ready Tongue 
 Assail all Men for all that I can get. 
 
 Imports indeed are gone with all their Dues — 
 Lo! Salt a Lever that I dare not use, 
 
 Nor may I ask the Tillers in Bengal — 
 Surely my Kith and Kin will not refuse 
 
 Pay — and I promise by the Dust of Spring, 
 Retrenchment. If my promises can bring 
 
 Comfort, Ye have them now a thousand- f old - 
 By Allah! I will promise Anything/ 
 
 68 
 
 .; I 
 
 i : I 
 
THE RUPAIYAT OF OMAR KAL'VIN 59 
 
 Indeed, indeed, Retrenchment oft before 
 I swore — but did I mean it when I swore? 
 
 And then, and then, We wandered to the Hills, 
 And so the Little Less became Much More. 
 
 (^ 
 
 Whether a Boileaugunge or Babylon, 
 
 I know not how the wretched Thing is done, 
 
 The Items of Receipt grow surely small; 
 The Items of Expense mount one by one. 
 
 I cannot help it. What have I to do 
 
 With One and Five, or Four, or Three, or Two? 
 
 Let Scribes spit Blood and Sulphur as they please, 
 Or Statesmen call me foolish — Heed not you. 
 
 Behold, I promise — Anything You will. 
 Behold, I greet you with an empty Till — 
 
 Ah ! Fellow-Sinners, of your Charity 
 Seek not the Reason of the Dearth, but fill. 
 
 For if I sinned and fell, where lies the Gain 
 Of Knowledge? Would it ease you of your Pain 
 
 To know the tangled Threads of Revenue, 
 I ravel deeper in a hopeless Skein r 
 
 . 
 
 I 
 
(' . 
 
 I 
 
 il- 
 
 60 
 
 THE RUPAIYAT OF OMAR KAL'VIN 
 
 "Who hath not Prudence " — what was it I said, 
 Of Her who paints her Eyes and tires Her Head, 
 And jibes and mocks the People in the Street, 
 And fawns upon them for Her thriftless Bread? 
 
 Accursed is She of Eve's daughters — She 
 Hath cast off Prudence, and Her End shall be 
 
 Destruction. . . . Brethren, of your Bounty grant 
 Some portion of your daily Bread to Me, 
 
 ;t: 
 
I 
 
 
 PAGETT, M.P. 
 
 T7ig toad beneath the harrow knows 
 Exactly where each tooth-point goes ; 
 The butterfly upon the road 
 Preaches contentment to that toad. 
 
 Pagett, M.P., was a liar, and a fluent liar there- 
 with, — 
 
 He spoke of the heat of India as the " Asian Solar 
 Myth"; 
 
 Came on a four months' visit, to "study the East," 
 in November. 
 
 And I got him to sign an agreement vowing to stay 
 till September. 
 
 March came in with the koil. Pagett was cool and 
 
 gay, 
 
 Called me a "bloated Brahmin," talked of my 
 
 "princely pay." 
 March went out with the roses. "Where is your 
 
 heat?" said he. 
 "Coming," said I to Pagett. "Skittles!" said 
 
 Pagett, M.P. 
 
 61 
 
 I 
 
 I J 
 
 i 
 
 
68 
 
 PAGETT, M.P. 
 
 II 
 
 April opened with punkahs, coolies, and prickly- 
 heat, — 
 
 Pagett was dear to mosquitoes, sandflies found him a 
 treat. 
 
 He grew speckled and lumpy — hammered, I grieve 
 to say, 
 
 Aryan brothers who fanned him, in an illiberal way. 
 
 May set in with a dust-storm, — Pagett went down 
 
 with the sun. 
 All the delights of the season tickled him one by 
 
 one. 
 Imprimis — ten days' "liver" — due to his drinking 
 
 beer; 
 Later, a dose of fever — slight, but he cdlled it 
 
 severe. 
 
 Dysent'ry touched him in June, after the Chota 
 
 Bur sat — 
 Lowered his portly person — made him yearn to 
 
 depart. 
 He didn't call me a "Brahmin," or "bloated," or 
 
 "overpaid," 
 But seemed to think it a wonder that any one ever 
 
 stayed. 
 
PAGETT, M.P. 
 
 68 
 
 July was a trifle unhealthy, — Pagett was ill with fear, 
 Called it the "Cholera Morbus," hinted that life was 
 
 dear. 
 He babbled of "eastern exile," and mentioned his 
 
 home with tears; 
 But I hadn't seen tny children for close upon seven 
 
 years. 
 
 ■I 
 
 hi 
 
 «i 
 
 % 
 
 We reached a hundred and twenty once in the Court 
 at noon, 
 
 [I've mentioned Pagett was portly] Pagett went off in 
 a swoon. 
 
 That was an end to the business; Pagett, the per- 
 jured, fled 
 
 With a practical, working knowledge of "Solar 
 Myths " in his head. 
 
 And I laughed as I drove from the station, but the 
 mirth died out on my lips 
 
 As I thought of the fools like Pagett who write of 
 their "Eastern trips," 
 
 And the sneers of the travelled idiots who duly mis- 
 govern the land, 
 
 And I prayed to the Lord to deliver another one into 
 my hand. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 LA NUIT BLANCHE 
 
 A much-discerning Public hold 
 The Singer generally sings 
 Of personal and private things, 
 
 A?id prints and sells his past for gold. 
 
 Whatever I may here disclaim, 
 The very clever folk I sing to 
 Will most indubitably cling to 
 
 Their pet delusion, fust the same. 
 
 I HAD seen, as dawn was breaking 
 
 And I staggered to my rest, 
 Tara Devi softly shaking 
 
 From the Cart Road to the crest. 
 I had seen the spir s of Jakko 
 
 Heave and quiver, swell and sink; 
 Was it Earthquake or tobacco. 
 
 Day of Doom or Night of Drink? 
 
 Li the full, fresh, fragrant morning 
 I observed a camel crawl, 
 
 64 
 
LA NUIT BLANCHE 
 
 Laws of gravitation scorning, 
 On the ceiling and the wallj 
 
 Then I watched a fender walking, 
 And I heard gray leeches sing, 
 
 And a red-hot monkey talking 
 Did not seem the proper thing. 
 
 65 
 
 (ft 
 
 Then a Creature, skinned and crimson, 
 
 Ran about the floor and cried, 
 And they said I had the "jims" on. 
 
 And they dosed me with bromide. 
 And they locked me in my bed-room — 
 
 Me and one wee Blood Red Mouse — 
 Though I said : — " To give my head room 
 
 "You had best unroof the house." 
 
 But my words were all unheeded. 
 
 Though I told the grave M.D. 
 That the treatment really needed 
 
 Was a dip in open sea 
 That was lapping just below me, 
 
 Smooth as silver, white as snow, 
 And it took three men to throw me 
 
 When I found I could not go. 
 
6G 
 
 LA NUIT BLANCHE 
 
 Half the night I watched the Heavens 
 
 Fizz like '8i champagne — 
 Fly to sixes and to sevens, 
 
 Wheel and thunder back again; 
 And when all was peace and order 
 
 Save one planet nailed askew, 
 Much I wept because my warder 
 
 Would not let me set it true. 
 
 After frenzied hours of waiting. 
 
 When the Earth and Skies were dumb, 
 Pealed an awful voice dictating 
 
 An interminable sum, 
 Changing to a tangled story — 
 
 "What she said you said I said — " 
 Till the Moon arose in glory, 
 
 And I found her ... in my head; 
 
 Then a Face came, blind and weeping, 
 
 And It couldn't wipe Its eyes, 
 And It muttered I was keeping 
 
 Back the moonlight from the skies; 
 So I patted It for pity. 
 
 But It whistled shrill with wrath, 
 And a huge, black Devil City 
 
 Poured its peoples on my path. 
 
LA NUIT BLANCHE 
 
 So L fled with steps uncertain 
 
 On a thousand-year long race, 
 But the bellying of the curtain 
 
 Kept me always in one place; 
 While the tumult rose and maddened 
 
 To the roar of Earth on fire, 
 Ere it ebbed and sank and saddened 
 
 To a whisper tense as wire. 
 
 In intolerable stillness 
 
 Rose one little, little star, 
 And it chuckled at my illness, 
 
 And it mocked me from afar; 
 And its brethren came and eyed me, 
 
 Called the Universe to aid, 
 Till I lay, with naught to hide rac, 
 
 'Neath the Scorn of all Things Made. 
 
 Dun and saffron, robed and splendid 
 
 Broke the solemn, pitying Day, 
 And I knew my pains were ended. 
 
 And I turned and tried to pray; 
 But my speech was shattered wholly. 
 
 And I wept as children weep. 
 Till the dawn-wind, softly, slowly, 
 
 Brought to burning eyelids sleep. 
 
 67 
 
 'J:. 
 
 I 
 
I f 
 
 I 
 
 if ! 
 l' 
 
 ' i 
 
 THE LOVERS' LITANY 
 
 Eyes of gray — the sodden quay, 
 
 Driving rain and falling tears, 
 
 As the steamer heads to sea 
 
 In a parting storm of cheers. 
 Sing, for Faith and Hope are high — 
 None so true as you and I — 
 Sing the Lovers* Litany: — 
 "Love like ours can never die /" 
 
 Eyes of black — the throbbing keel 
 
 Milky foam to left and right; 
 
 Little whispers near the wheel 
 
 In the brilliant tropic night. 
 Cross that rules the Southern Sky, 
 Stars that sweep, and wheel, and fly. 
 Hear the Lovers' Litany : — 
 " Love like ours can never die ! " 
 
 Eyes of brown — the dusty plain 
 Split and parched with heat of June. 
 
 08 
 
THE LOVERS' LITANY 
 
 Flying hoof and tightened rein, 
 Hearts that beat the old, old tune. 
 Side by side the horses fly, 
 Frame we now the old reply 
 Of the Lovers' Litany : — 
 " Lo^.e like ours can tiever die ! " 
 
 Eyes of blue — the Simla Hills 
 Silvered with the moonlight hoar; 
 Pleading of the waltz that thrills. 
 Dies and echoes round Benmore. 
 ''Mabel;' " Officers;' " Good-bye;' 
 Glamour, wine, and witchery — 
 On my soul's sincerity, 
 "Love like ours can never die/'* 
 
 69 
 
 n i 
 
 rn 
 
 Maidens, of your charity. 
 Pity my most luckless sic ce. 
 Four times Cupid's debtor I — 
 Bankrupt in quadruplicate. 
 Yet, despite this evil case, 
 And a maiden showed me grace, 
 Four-and-forty times would I 
 Sing the Lovers' Litany : — 
 ^^ Love like ours can never die ! " 
 
f 
 
 A 
 
 
 'I' ^ 
 I. I 
 
 ] 
 
 \. 
 
 A BALLAD OF BURIAL 
 ^^ Saint Praxcd'^s ever was the Church for peaces' 
 
 It down here I chance to die, 
 
 Solemnly I beg you take 
 All that is left of " I " 
 
 Tc the Hills for old sake's sake. 
 Pack, and pack me thoroughly, 
 
 In the ice that used to slake 
 Drinks I drank when I was dry — 
 
 This observe for old sake's sake. 
 
 To the railway station hie, 
 
 There a single ticket take 
 For Umballa — goods-train — I 
 
 Shall not mind delay or shake. 
 I shall rest contentedly 
 
 Spite of clamour coolies make; 
 Thus in frozen dignity 
 
 Send me up for olil sake's sake. 
 70 
 
 ' .1 
 
A BALLAD OF BURIAL 
 
 Next the sleepy Babu wake, 
 
 Book a Kalka van "for four." 
 Few, I think, will care to make 
 
 Journeys with me any more 
 As they used to do of yore. 
 
 I shall need a " special " break — 
 Thing I never took before — 
 
 Get me one for old sake's sake. 
 
 After that — arrangements make. 
 
 No hotel will take me in, 
 And a bullock's back would break 
 
 'Neath the teak and leaden skin. 
 Tonga-ropes are frail and thin. 
 
 Or, did I a back seat take. 
 In a tonga i might spin. 
 
 Do your best for old sake's sake. 
 
 After that — your work is done. 
 
 Recollect a Padre must 
 Mourn the dear departed one — 
 
 Throw the ashes and the dust. 
 Don't go down at once. I trust 
 
 You will find excuse to " snake 
 
 71 
 
 
 'i ! 
 
 .1! 
 
 1 * 
 
 n 
 
i» 
 
 l\ 
 
 ' I V 
 
 ' 
 
 • f 
 
 72 A BALLAD OF BURIAL 
 
 Three days' casual on the bust, " — 
 Get your fun for old sake's sake. 
 
 I could never stand the Plains. 
 
 Think of blazing June and May, 
 Think of those September rains 
 
 Yearly till the Judgment Day ! 
 I should never rest in peace, 
 
 I should sweat and I's a'vake. 
 Rail me then, e :■ nr^ . tcease, 
 
 To the Hills 1. mc. > ke's sake. 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
THE OVERLAND MAIL 
 
 {Foot-service to the Hills] 
 
 In the name of the Empress of India, make way, 
 O Lords of the Jungle, wherever you roam, 
 
 The woods are awake at the end of the day — 
 We exiles are waiting for letters from Home. 
 
 Let the robber retreat — and the tiger turn tail — 
 
 In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail ! 
 
 With a jingle of bells as the dusk gathers in, 
 
 He turns to the foot-path that heads up the hill — 
 
 The bags on his back and a doth round his chin. 
 And, tucked in his wai^itbelt, the Post Office 
 billj — 
 
 "Despatched on this date, as received by the rail, 
 
 ^^ Per runner, two bagfs of the Overland Mail." 
 
 Is the torrent in spate? He must ford it or swim. 
 Has the rain vvTtcked the road? He must climb 
 by the cliff. 
 
 73 
 
74 
 
 THE OVERLAND MAIL 
 
 
 Does the tempest cry halt? What are tempests to 
 
 him? 
 The service admits not a "but" or an "if." 
 While the breath's in his mouth, he must bear without 
 
 fail, 
 In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail. 
 
 From aloe to rose-oak, from rose-oak to fir, 
 From level to upland, from upland to crest. 
 
 From rice-field to rock-ridge, from rock-ridge to spur. 
 Fly the soft-sandalled feet, strains the scrawny 
 brown chest. 
 
 From rail to ravine — to the peak from the vale — 
 
 Up, up through the night goes the Overland Mail. 
 
 There's a speck on the hill-side, a dot on the road — 
 A jingle of bells on the foot-path below — 
 
 There's a scuffle above in the monkey's abode — 
 I'he world is awake and the clouds are aglow. 
 
 For the great Sun himself must attend to the hail : — 
 
 " In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail ! " 
 
 
DIVIDED DESTINIES 
 
 It was an artless Bandar^ and he danced upon a pine, 
 And much I wondered how he Uved, and where the 
 
 beast might dine, 
 And many many other things, till, o'er my morning 
 
 smoke, 
 I slept the sleep of idleness and dreamt that Bafidar 
 
 spoke. 
 
 He said : — "Oh man of many clothes ! Sad crawler 
 
 on the Hills ' 
 " Observe, I know not Ranken's shop, nor Ranken's 
 
 monthly bills ! 
 " I take no heed to trousers or the coats that you call 
 
 dress ; 
 " Nor am I plagued with little cards for little drinks at 
 
 Mess. 
 
 " I steal the bunnia's grain at morn, at noon and even- 
 tide 
 
 "(For he is fat and I am spare), I roam the mountain 
 side, 
 
 75 
 
 \ '- 'A 
 
76 
 
 DIVIDED DESTINIES 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 f ■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ( 
 
 " I follow no man's carriage, and no, never in my life 
 " Have I flirted at Peliti's with another Batidar's wife. 
 
 "Oh man of futile fopperies — unnecessary wraps; 
 " I own no ponies in the hills, I drive no tall-wheeled 
 
 traps. 
 " I buy me not twelve-button gloves, ' short-sixes ' eke, 
 
 of rings, 
 " Nor do I waste at Hamilton's my wealth on pretty 
 
 things. 
 
 " I quarrel with my wife at home, we never fight 
 
 abroad ; 
 " But Mrs. B. has grasped the fact I am her only lord. 
 "I never heard of fever — dumps nor debts depress 
 
 my soul ; 
 "And I pity and despise you!" Here he pouched 
 
 my breakfast-roll. 
 
 His hide was very muiigy and his face was very red, 
 And undisguisedly he scratched with energy his head. 
 His manners were not alsvays nice, but how my spirit 
 
 cried 
 To be an artless Bandar loose upon the mountain 
 
 side ! 
 
 J 
 
DIVIDED DESTINIES 
 
 77 
 
 So I answered : — " Gentle Baftdar, an inscrutable 
 
 Decree, 
 " Makes thee a gleesome fleasome Thou, and me a 
 
 wretched Me. 
 " Go ! Depart in peace, my brother, to thy home 
 
 amid the pine ; 
 "Yet forget not once a mortal wished to change his 
 
 lot with thine." 
 
I i 
 
 l\ 
 
 THE MASQUE OF PLENTY 
 
 Argument. — The Indian Government being minded 
 to discover the economic condition of their lands, sent a 
 Committee to inquire into it ; and saw that it was good. 
 
 ScENK. — 77/<f ivooded heiirhts of Simla. The Incar- 
 nation of the Government of India in the raiment 
 of the Angel of Plenty sings, to pianoforte ac- 
 compa nimcn t : — 
 
 " How sweet is the shepherd's sweet life ! 
 
 From the dawn to the even he strays — 
 He shall follow his sheep all the day 
 
 And his tongue shall be filled with praise. 
 
 {adagio dim.) Filled v/ith praise ! " 
 
 {largendo eon sp.) Now this is the position, 
 
 Go make an inquisition 
 Into their reni condition 
 As swiftly as ye may. 
 (/) Ay, paint our swarthy billions 
 The richest of vermilions 
 Ere two well-led cotillions 
 Have danced themselves away. 
 7b 
 
 V I 
 
THE MASQUE OF PLENTY 
 
 79 
 
 Turkish Patroi,, as aolc and intcUi^^ent Investigators 
 wind d^'wn the Himalayas : — 
 
 What is the state of Uie Nation? What is its occupa- 
 tion ? 
 Hi ! get along, get I'long, get along, — lend us the 
 
 information 1 
 {dim.) Census the /{v/f and the va/fu — capture a first- 
 class Babu, 
 Set him to cut Gazetteers — Gazetteers . . . 
 
 (ff) What is the state of the Nation, i>zc., S:c. 
 
 Interi-UDF,, /nfm Nim^hcrc in I\i)ticula>\ to stringed 
 and Oriental instruments. 
 
 Our cattle reel beneath the yoke they bear — 
 The earth is iron and the skies are brass — 
 
 And faint with fervour of the flaming air 
 The languid hours pass. 
 
 Our wells are dry beneath the village tree — 
 The young wheat withers ere it reach a span, 
 
 And belts of Ijlinding sand show cruelly 
 Where once the river ran. 
 
 Pray, brothers, pray, but to no earthly King — 
 Lift up your hands above the blighted grain, 
 
80 
 
 THE MASQUE OF PLENTY 
 
 !i 
 
 H. 
 
 1| 
 
 Look westward — if They please, the Gods shall bring 
 Their mercy with the Rain. 
 
 Look westward — bears the blue no brown cloud-bank? 
 
 Nay, it is written — wherefore should we fly? 
 On our own field and by our cattle's flank 
 
 Lie down, lie down to die ! 
 
 Semi-Chorus. 
 
 By the plumed heads of Kings 
 
 Waving high. 
 Where the tall corn springs 
 
 O'er the dead. 
 If they rust or rot we die, 
 If they ripen we are fed. 
 Very mighty is the power of our Kings ! 
 
 Triumphal return to Simla of the Investigators, attired 
 after the manner of Dionysus ^ leading a pet tiger-cub 
 in wreaths of rhubarh leaves^ symbolical of India 
 under medical treatment. They sing : — 
 
 We have seen, we have written — behold it, the proof 
 
 of our manifold toil ! 
 In their hosts they assembled and told it — the tale of 
 
 the Sons of the Soil. 
 
i 
 
 THE MASQUE OF PLENTY 
 
 81 
 
 We have said of the Sickness — " Where is it ? " — and 
 
 of Death — *'It is far from our ken," — 
 We have paid a particular visit to the affluent children 
 
 of men. 
 We have trodden the mart and the well-curb — we 
 
 have stooped to the bield and the byre ; 
 And the King may the forces of Hell curb — for the 
 
 People have all they desire ! 
 
 Castanets and step-dance : 
 
 Oh, the dom and the mag and the thakur and the thag. 
 
 And the w^-Zand the hrinjcucc, 
 And the biinnia and the ryot are as happy and as quiet 
 
 And as plump as they can be ! 
 Yes, the jain and the jat in his stucco-fronted hut, 
 
 And the bounding hazugar, 
 By the favour of the King, are as fat as anything, 
 
 They are — they are — they are ! 
 
 Recitativf, Government of India, luith white satin 
 wings and electroplated harp : — 
 
 How beautiful upon the mountains- in jieace re("lining, 
 Thus to be assured that our people are unanimously 
 
 dining. 
 And though there are places not so blessed as others 
 
 \\ 
 
'. '■ '"^' :;'a? 
 
 82 
 
 THE MASQUE OF PLENTY 
 
 \^. 
 
 in natural advant.igcs, which, after all, was only to 
 be expe'.ied, 
 Proud and glad are we to congratulate you upon the 
 work you have thus ably effected. 
 
 Chorus of the Crystallized Facts. 
 
 Before the beginning of years 
 
 There came to the rule of the State 
 
 Men with a pair of shears. 
 
 Men with an h.timate — 
 
 Strachey with Muir for leaven, 
 
 Lytton with locks that fell, 
 
 Ripon fooling with Heaven, 
 
 And Temple riding like H — 11 ! 
 
 And the bigots took in hand 
 
 Cess and the falling of rain. 
 
 And the measure of sifted sand 
 
 The dealer puts in the grain — 
 
 Imports by land and sea. 
 
 To uttermost decimal worth. 
 
 And registration — free — 
 
 In the Houses of Death and of P*r: i ; 
 
 And fashioned with i)ens and papv'^, 
 
 And fashioned in black and white. 
 
 With Life for a flickering taper 
 
THI,; MASQUE OF PLENTY 
 
 And T^ v:ai.h for a blazing light — 
 With the Armed and the Civil Po\s\jr, 
 That his strength might endure ior d span 
 From Adam's Bridge to Peshawur, 
 The Much Administered Man. 
 
 In the towns of the North and the East, 
 
 They gathcr-^d as unto rule, 
 
 They bade aim starve his pricjt 
 
 And send his children to school. 
 
 Railways and roads they wrought. 
 
 For the needs of the trade within ; 
 
 A time to scjuabWe in court, 
 
 A time to bear and to grin ; 
 
 And gave him peace in his ways. 
 
 Jails — and Police to fight. 
 
 Justice at length of days, 
 
 And Right — and Might in the Right. 
 
 His speech is of mortgaged bedding. 
 
 On his kine he borrows yet. 
 
 At his heart is his daughter's wedding, 
 
 In his eye foreknowledge of debt. 
 
 He eats and hath indigestion, 
 
 He toils and he may not stop ; 
 
 His life is a long-drawn question 
 
 Between a crop and a crop. 
 
 83 
 
 M -I 
 
 ii 
 
THE MARE'S NEST 
 
 U 
 
 II ; 
 
 ^i 
 
 Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse 
 Was good beyond all earthly need ; 
 
 But, on the other hand, her spouse 
 Was very, very bad indeed. 
 
 He smoked cigars, called churches slow, 
 
 And raced — but this she did not know. 
 
 For Belial Machiavelli kept 
 
 The little fact a secret, and, 
 Though o'er his minor sins she wept, 
 
 Jane Austen did not understand 
 That Lilly — thirteen-two and bay — 
 Absorbed one half her husband's pay. 
 
 i ■ I 
 
 She was so good she made him worse 
 (Some women are like this, I think) ; 
 
 He taught her parrot how to curse. 
 Her Assam monkey how to drink. 
 
 He vexed her righteous soul until 
 
 She went up, and lie went down hill. 
 
 H 
 
THE MARE'S NEST 
 
 Then came the crisis, strange to say, 
 Which turned a good wife to a better. 
 
 A telegraphic peon, one day, 
 
 Brought her — now, had it been a letter 
 
 For Belial Machiavelli, I 
 
 Know Jane would just have let it lie. 
 
 But 'twas a telegram instead, 
 
 Marked " urgent," and her duty plain 
 To open it. Jane Austen read : — 
 
 " Vour Lilly's got a cough again. 
 "Can't understand why she is kept 
 "At your expensed Jane Austen wept. 
 
 It was a misdirected wire. 
 
 Her husbaml was at Shaitanpore. 
 
 She spread her anger, hot as fire, 
 
 Through six thin foreign sheets or more. 
 
 Sent off that letter, wrote another 
 
 To her solicitor — and mother. 
 
 85 
 
 Then Belial Machiavelli saw 
 Her error and, I trust, his own, 
 
 Wired to the minion of the Law, 
 And travelled wifeward — not alone : 
 
86 THE MARE'S NEST 
 
 For Lilly — thirteen-two and bay — 
 Came in a horse-box all the way. 
 
 There was a scene — a weep or hvo 
 With many kisses. Austen Jane 
 
 Rode Lilly all the season through, 
 And never opened wires again. 
 
 She races now with Belial. This 
 
 Is very sad, but so it is. 
 
 
 h 
 
I 
 
 THE BALLAD OF FISHER'S BOARDING- 
 HOUSE 
 
 That night ivhen through the mooring chains 
 The wide-eyed corpse rolled free, 
 
 To blunder doivn by Garden Reach 
 And rot at Kedgeree, 
 
 The tale the Hughli told the shoal 
 The lean shoal wldspered me. 
 
 'TwAS Fultah Fisher's boarding-house, 
 
 Where sailor-men reside, 
 And there were men of all '.he ports 
 
 From Mississip to ^'lyde, 
 And regally they spat and smoked, 
 
 And fearsomely they lied. 
 
 They lied al)out the purple Sea 
 
 That gave them scanty bread, 
 They lied about the Earth beneath, 
 
 The Heavens overhead, 
 For they had looked too often on 
 
 Black rum when that was red. 
 87 
 
%i : 
 
 88 BALLAD OF FISHER^S BOARDING-HOUSE 
 
 And there was Hans the Blue-eyed Dane, 
 
 Bull-throated, bare of arm, 
 Who carried on his hairy chest 
 
 The maid Ultruda's charm — 
 The little silver crucifix 
 
 That keeps a man from harm. 
 
 i I 
 
 And there was Jake Without-the-Ears, 
 
 And Pamba the Malay, 
 And Carboy Gin the Guinea cook, 
 
 And Luz from Vigo Bay, 
 And Honest Jack who sold them slops 
 
 And harvested their pay. 
 
 And there was Salem Hardieker, 
 
 A lean Bostonian he — 
 Russ, German, English, Halfbreed, Finn 
 
 Yank, Dane, and i'ortugee. 
 At Fultah Fisher's boarding-hou e 
 
 They rested from the sea. 
 
 I I' 
 
 Now Anne of Austria shared their drinks, 
 
 Collinga knew her fame, 
 From Tarnau in Galicia 
 
 To Jaun Bazar she came, 
 
BALLAD OF FISHER'S BOARDING-HOUSE 89 
 
 To eat the bread of infamy 
 And take the wage of shame. 
 
 She held a dozen men to heel — 
 
 Rich spoil of war was hers, 
 In hose and gown and ring and chain, 
 
 P>om twenty mariners. 
 And, by Port Law, that week, men called 
 
 Her Salem Hardieker's. 
 
 But seamen learnt — what landsmen know — 
 
 That neither gifts nor gain 
 Can hold a winking Light o' Love 
 
 Or Fancy's flight restrain. 
 When Anne of Austria rolled her eyes 
 
 On Hans the blue-eyed Dane. 
 
 Since Life is strife, and strife means knife, 
 
 From Howrah to the Bay, 
 And he may die before the dawn 
 
 Who liquored out the day, 
 In Fultah Fisher's boarding-house 
 
 We woo while yet we may. 
 
 But cold was Hans the blue-eyed Dane, 
 Bull-throated, bare of arm, 
 
 ii 
 
 II i 
 
 n 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WIST MAIN STREET 
 
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;u5 
 
 90 BALLAD OF FISHER'S BOARDING-HOUSE 
 
 And laughter shook the chest beneath 
 
 The maid Ultruda's charm — 
 The Uttle silver crucifix 
 
 That keeps a man from harm. 
 
 " You speak to Salem Hardieker, 
 
 " You was his girl, I know. 
 " I ship mineselfs to-morrow, see, 
 
 " Und round the Skaw we go, 
 " South, down the Cattegat, by Hjelm, 
 
 " To Besser in Saro." 
 
 I' j; 
 
 When love rejected turns to hate. 
 
 All ill betide the man. 
 " You speak to Salem Hardieker " — 
 
 She spoke as woman can. 
 A scream — a sob — " He called me — 
 
 And then the fray began. 
 
 An oath from Salem Hardieker, 
 
 A shriek upon the stairs, 
 A dance of shadows on the wall, 
 
 A knife-thrust unawares — 
 And Hans came down, as cattle drop, 
 
 Across the broken chairs. 
 
 names ! " 
 
BALLAD OF FISHER'S BOARDING-HOUSE 91 
 
 In Anne of Austria's trembling hands 
 
 The weary head fell low : — 
 " I ship mineselfs to-morrow, straight 
 
 " For Besser in Saro ; 
 " Und there Ultruda comes to me 
 
 " At Easter, und I go 
 
 "South, down the Cattegat — What's here? 
 
 " There — are — no — lights — to — guide ! " 
 The mutter ceased, the spirit passed, 
 
 And Anne of Austria cried 
 In Fultah Fisher's boarding-house 
 
 When Hans the mighty died. 
 
 Thus slew they Hans the blue-eyed Dane, 
 
 Bull-throated, bare of arm. 
 But Anne of Austria looted first 
 
 The maid Ultruda's charm — 
 The little silver crucifix 
 
 That keeps a man from harm. 
 
 Hi ' 
 
m 
 
 
 ) 
 
 POSSIBILITIES 
 
 Ay, lay him 'neath the Simla pine — 
 A fortnight fully to be missed, 
 Behold, we lose our fourth at whist, 
 
 A chair is vacant where we dine. 
 
 His place forgets him ; other men 
 
 Have bought his ponies, guns, and traps. 
 His fortune is the Great Perhaps 
 
 And that cool rest-house down the glen. 
 
 Whence he shall hear, as spirits may, 
 
 « 
 
 Our mundane revel on the height, 
 Shall watch each flashing 'n'cks/iaw-light 
 Sweep on to dinner, dance, and play. 
 
 Benmore shall woo him to the ball 
 With lighted rooms and braying band : 
 And he shall hear and understand 
 
 "Dream Faces " better than us all. 
 
 For, think you, as the vapours fiee 
 Across Sanjaolie after rain, 
 92 
 
POSSIBILITIES 
 
 His soul may climb the hill again 
 To each old field of victory. 
 
 Unseen, who women held so dear, 
 The strong man's yearning to his kind 
 Shall shake at most the window-blind, 
 
 Or dull awhile the card-room's cheer. 
 
 In his own place of power unknown, 
 His Light o' Love another's flame, 
 His dearest pony galloped lame. 
 
 And he an alien and alone. 
 
 Yet may he meet with many a friend — 
 Shrewd shadows, lingering long unseen 
 Among us when " God save the Queen " 
 
 Shows even "extras " have an end. 
 
 And, when we leave the heated room. 
 And, when at four the lights expire. 
 The crew shall gather round the fire 
 
 And mock our laughter in the gloom. 
 
 Talk as we talked, and they ere death — 
 First wanly, danced in ghostly wise. 
 With ghosts of tunes for melodies, 
 
 And vanished at the morning's breath I 
 
 98 
 
 Hi 
 
ARITHMETIC ON THE FRONTIER 
 
 A GREAT and glorious thing it is 
 To learn, for seven years or so, 
 
 The Lord knows what of that and this, 
 Ere reckoned fit to face the foe — 
 
 The flying bullet down the Pass, 
 
 That whistles clear : — "All flesh is grass." 
 
 Three hundred pounds per annum spent 
 On making brain and body meeter 
 
 For all the murderous intent 
 Comprised in "villanous saltpeter !" 
 
 And after? — Ask the Yusufzaies 
 
 What comes of all our 'ologies. 
 
 A scrimmage in a Border Station — 
 A canter down some dark defile — 
 
 Two thousand pounds of education 
 Drops to a ten-niTpee j'ezat'/ — 
 
 The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride, 
 
 Shot like a rabbit in a ride I 
 
 94 
 
 ' 
 
ARITHMETIC ON THE FRONTIER 
 
 95 
 
 ! i 
 
 No proposition Euclid wrote, 
 
 No formulae the text-books know, 
 
 Will turn the bullet from your coat. 
 Or ward the tulwar's downward blow. 
 
 Strike hard who cares — shoot straight who can 
 
 The odds are on the cheaper man. 
 
 One sword-knot stolen from the camp 
 Will pay for all the school-expenses 
 
 Of any Kurrum Valley scamp 
 Who knows no word of moods and tenses, 
 
 But, being blest with perfect sight. 
 
 Picks off our messmates left and right. 
 
 With home-bred hordes the hill-sides teem, 
 The troop-ships bring us one by one. 
 
 At vast expense of time and steam. 
 To slay Afridis where they run. 
 
 The " captives of our bow and spear " 
 
 Are cheap, alas ! as we are dear. 
 
 I 
 
 : 
 
I 
 
 Uf! 
 
 ' I 
 
 THE SONG OF THE WOMEN 
 
 {Zady DufferitCs Fund for Medical Aid to the Women 
 
 of India.) 
 
 How shall she know the worship we would do her? 
 
 The walls are high and she is very far. 
 How shall the women's message reach unto her 
 Above the tumult of the packed bazar ? 
 
 Free wind of March, against the lattice blowing, 
 Bear thou our thanks lest she depart unknowing. 
 
 Go forth across the fields we may not roam in, 
 Go forth beyond the trees that rim the city 
 To whatso . lir place she hath her home in, 
 Who dov.wied us with wealth of love and pity. 
 Out of our shadow pass and seek her singin*^ — 
 " I have no gifts but Love alone for bringing." 
 
 Say that we be a feeble folk who greet her, 
 But old in grief, and very wise in tears ; 
 
 Say that we, being desolate, entreat her 
 That she forget us not in after years ; 
 
 96 
 
 it 
 
THE SONG OF THE WOMEN 
 
 97 
 
 For we have seen the light, and it were grievous 
 To dim that dawning if our lady leave us. 
 
 '.en 
 
 By life that ebbed with none to staunch the failing, 
 
 By Love's sad harvest garnered in the spring, 
 When Love in Ignorance wept unavailing 
 
 O'er young buds dead before their blossoming; 
 By all the gray owl watched, the pale moon 
 
 viewed, 
 In past grim years declare our gratitude ! 
 
 ng. 
 
 By hands uplifted to the Gods that heard not, 
 By gifts that found no favour in Their sight. 
 By faces bent above the babe that stirred not, 
 By nameless horrors of the stifling night ; 
 By ills foredone, by peace her toils discover. 
 Bid Earth be good beneath and Heaven above 
 her! 
 
 in 
 
 If she have sent her servants in our pain. 
 
 If she have fought with Death and dulled his sword ; 
 If she have given back our sick again. 
 And to the breast the weakling lips restored, 
 Is it a little thing that she has wrought? 
 Then Life and Death and Motherhood be naught. 
 

 I 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 98 
 
 THE SONG OF THE WOMEN 
 
 Go forth, O wind, our message on thy wings. 
 
 And they shall hear thee pass and bid thee speed, 
 In reed-roof»;d hut, or white-walled home of kings. 
 Who have been holpen by her in their need. 
 
 All spring shall give thee fragrance, and the wheat 
 Shall be a tasselled floorcloth to thy feet. 
 
 Haste, for our hearts are with thee, take no rest ! 
 
 Loud-voiced ambassador, from sea to sea 
 Proclaim the blessing, manifold, confest, 
 Of those in darkness by her hand set free. 
 Then very softly to her presence move, 
 And whisper : " Lady, lo, they know and love ! " 
 
 '■ ?i 
 
 ; i 
 
 \ i 
 
THE BETROTHED 
 
 "Vou must choose between me and your cigar.''^ 
 
 Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, 
 For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I 
 are out. 
 
 We quarrelled about Havanas — we fought o'er a good 
 
 cheroot, 
 And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a 
 
 brute. 
 
 Open the old cigar-box — let me consider a space; 
 In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's 
 face. 
 
 Maggie is pretty to look at — Maggie's a loving lass, 
 But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of 
 loves must pass. 
 
 There's peace in a Laranaga, there's calm in a Henry 
 
 Clay, 
 But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown 
 
 away — 
 
 90 
 
 ., 
 
 \ ^;. 
 
 ■;s>. 
 
 ■j'i^/^': 
 
 "f/ 
 
 I f 
 
100 
 
 THE BETROTHED 
 
 Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and 
 
 brown — 
 But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the 
 
 talk o' the town ! 
 
 Maggie, my wife at fifty — gray and dour and old — 
 With never another Maggie to purchase for love or 
 gold! 
 
 And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the 
 
 Days that Are, 
 And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of 
 
 a dead cigar — 
 
 The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in 
 
 your pocket — 
 With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and 
 
 black to the socket. 
 
 Open the old cigar-box — let me consider awhile — 
 Here is a mild Manilla — there is a wifely smile. 
 
 Which is the better portion — bondage bought with a 
 
 ring. 
 Or a harem of dusky beauties fifty tied in a string? 
 
 ; -1 
 
 t;J 
 
THE BETROTHED 
 
 101 
 
 Counsellors cunning and silent — comforters true and 
 
 tried, 
 And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride. 
 
 Thought in the early morning, solac 3 in time of woes, 
 Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids 
 close. 
 
 This will the fifty give me, asking naught in return, 
 With only a Suttee^ s passion — to do their duty and 
 burn. 
 
 This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and 
 
 dead. 
 Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead. 
 
 The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish 
 
 Main, 
 When they hear my harem is empty, will send me my 
 
 brides again. 
 
 I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their 
 
 mouths withal, 
 So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers 
 
 fall. 
 
f 
 
 J 
 
 102 
 
 THE BETROTHED 
 
 I will scent 'em with best Vanilla, with tea will I 
 
 temper their hides, 
 And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read 
 
 of the tale of my brides. 
 
 For Maggie has written a letter that gives me my 
 
 choice between 
 The wee little whimpering Love and the great god 
 
 Nick o' Teen. 
 
 And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelve- 
 month clear. 
 
 But I have been Priest of Partagas a matter of seven 
 year; 
 
 And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the 
 
 cheery light 
 Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure 
 
 and Work and Fight. 
 
 ^ -ti 
 
 And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I 
 
 must prove, 
 But the only liglit on the marshes is the Will-o*-the- 
 
 Wisp of Love. 
 
 t 
 
 V 
 
 J^ 
 
 i 
 
 
•j 
 
 THE BETROTHED 
 
 103 
 
 Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me 
 
 bogged in the mire ? 
 Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the 
 
 fitful fire? 
 
 [ 
 
 i.\ 
 
 Open the old cigar-box — let me consider anew — 
 Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon 
 you? 
 
 A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke ; 
 And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a 
 Smoke. 
 
 Light me another Cuba — I hold to my first-sworn 
 
 vows. 
 If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for 
 
 spouse ! 
 
 \[ 
 
.4' 
 
 
 r" 
 
 V 
 
 A BALLADE OF JAKKO HILL 
 
 One moment bid the horses wait, 
 
 Since tififin is not laid till three, 
 Below the upward path and strait 
 
 You climbed a year ago with me. 
 Love came upon us suddenly 
 
 And loosed — an idle hour to kill — 
 A headless, harmless armoury 
 
 That smote us both on Jakko Hill. 
 
 Ah Heaven ! we would wait and wait 
 
 Through Time and to Eternity ! 
 Ah Heaven ! we would conquer Fate 
 
 With more than Godlike constancy ! 
 I cut the date upon a tree — 
 
 Here stand the clumsy figures still : - 
 " 10-7-85, A.D." 
 
 Damp with the mist on Jakko Hill. 
 
 What came of high resolve and great, 
 And until Death fidelity ? 
 104 
 
 . r. 
 
A BALLADE OF JAKKO HILL 
 
 105 
 
 Whose horse is waiting at your gate ? 
 
 Whose ' n'ckshaw-wheels ride over me? 
 No Saint's, I swear ; and — let me see 
 
 To-night what names your programme fill — 
 We drift asunder merrily, 
 
 As drifts the mist on Jakko Hill ! 
 
 ft 
 
 L'envoi 
 
 Woman, behold our ancient state 
 
 Has clean departed ; and we see 
 'Twas Idleness we took for Fate 
 
 That bound light bonds on you and me. 
 Amen ! Here ends the comedy 
 
 Where it began in all good will. 
 Since Love and Leave together flee 
 
 As driven mist on Jakko Hill 1 
 
 ( 1^ 
 
THE PLEA OF THE SIMLA DANCERS 
 
 Too late, alas ! the song 
 To remedy the ivrotig; — 
 TJie rooms are taken from us, swept and garnished for 
 
 their fate 
 But these tear-besprinkled pages 
 Shall attest to future ages 
 That we cried against the crime of it — too late, alas! 
 
 too late! 
 
 \ .■ I 
 
 
 "What have we ever done to bear this grudge?" 
 
 Was there no room save only in Benmore 
 For docket, duftar, and for office drudge, 
 
 That you usurp our smoothest dancing floor ? 
 Must babus do their work on polished teak? 
 
 Are ball-rooms fittest for the ink you spill ? 
 Was there no other cheaper house to seek ? 
 
 Yoi might have left them all at Strawberry Hill. 
 
 I'f 
 
 \ \ 
 
 We never harmed you ! Innocent our guise, 
 Dainty our shining feet, our voices low ; 
 
 106 
 
 M 
 
THE PLEA OF THE SIMLA DANCERS 107 
 
 And we revolved to divers melodies, 
 
 And we were happy but a year ago. 
 To-night the moon that watched our lightsome wiles — 
 
 That beamed upon us through the deodars — 
 Is wan with gazing on official files, 
 
 And desecrating desks disgust the stars. 
 
 Nay ! by the memory of tuneful nights — 
 
 Nay ! by the witchery of flying feet — 
 Nay ! by the glamour of foredone delights — 
 
 By all things merry, musical, and meet — 
 By wine that sparkled, and by sparkling eyes — 
 
 By wailing waltz — by reckless gallop's strain — 
 By dim verandahs and by sou replies, 
 
 Give us our ravished ball-room back again ! 
 
 ''"l! 
 
 Or — hearken to the curse we lay on you ! 
 
 The ghosts of waltzes shall perplex your brain, 
 And murmurs of past merriment pursue 
 
 Your 'wildered clerks that they indite in vain ; 
 And when you count your poor Provincial millions. 
 
 The only figures that your pen shall frame 
 Shall be the tigures of dear, dear rotillons 
 
 Danced out in tumult long before you came. 
 
fi (' 
 
 108 THE PLEA OF THE SIMLA DANCERS 
 
 R !l 
 
 > i 
 
 Yea ! " See Saw " shall upset your estimates, 
 
 " Dream-faces " shall your heavy heads bemuse. 
 Because your hand, unheeding, desecrates 
 
 Our temple ; fit for higher, worthier use. 
 And all the long verandahs, eloquent 
 
 With echoes of a score of Simla years, 
 Shall plague you with unbidden sentiment — 
 
 Babbling of kisses, laughter, love, and tears. 
 
 So shall you mazed amid old memories stand, 
 
 So shall you toil, and shall accomplish naught. 
 And ever in your ears a phantom Band 
 
 Shall blare away the staid official thought. 
 Wherefore — and ere this awful curse be spoken. 
 
 Cast out your swarthy, sacrilegious train. 
 And give — ere dancing cease and hearts be broken- 
 
 Give us our ravished ball-room back again ! 
 
"AS THE BELL CLINKS" 
 
 As I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a 
 
 comely 
 Maid last season worshipped dumbly, watched with 
 
 fervour from afar ; 
 And I wondered idly, blindly, if the maid would greet 
 
 me kindly. 
 That was all — the rest was settled by the clinking 
 
 tonga-bar. 
 Ay, my life and hers were coupled by the tonga 
 
 coupling bar. 
 
 For my misty m ditation, at the second changing- 
 staticn, 
 
 Suffered sudden dislocation, fled before the tuneless 
 jar 
 
 Of a Wagner obbligato, scherzo, double-hand staccato, 
 
 Played on either pony's saddle by the clacking tonga- 
 bar — 
 
 Phyed with human speech, I fancied, by the jigging, 
 jolting bar. 
 
 109 
 
 ; 
 
 >! 
 I' I 
 
 li- 
 
 :| 
 
 \'0 
 
 ■/ 
 
f 
 
 
 I 
 
 H 
 
 ^\ 
 
 110 
 
 "AS THE BELL CLINKS" 
 
 " She was sweet," thought I, " last season, but 'twere 
 
 St. rely wild unreason 
 " Such a tiny hope to freeze on as was offered by my 
 
 Star, 
 " Wlien she whispered, something sadly : — 'I — vve 
 
 feel your going badly?' " 
 "And you let the chance escape you?^* rapped the 
 
 rattling tonga-bar. 
 " What a chance and what an idiot !^^ clicked the 
 
 vicious tonga-bar. 
 
 Heart of man — Oh heart of putty ! Had I gone by 
 Kakahutti, 
 
 On the old Hill-ioad and rutty, I had 'scaped that 
 fatal car : 
 
 But his fortune each must bide by, so I watched the 
 milestones slide by. 
 
 To — " You call on Her to-morrow ! " — fugue with 
 cymbals by the bar — 
 
 " Yott must call on Her to-morrow! " — post- horn gal- 
 lop by the bar. 
 
 Yet a further stage my goal on — we were whirling 
 
 down to Solon, 
 With a double lurch and roll on, best foot foremost, 
 
 ganz und gar — 
 

 "AS THE BELL CLINKS" 
 
 111 
 
 ** She was very sweet," I hinted. " If a kiss had been 
 
 imprinted ?" 
 
 "Would ha' saved a world of trouble !'' clashed the 
 
 busy tonga-bar. 
 *^^Been accepted or rejected P' banged and clanged 
 
 the tonga-bar. 
 
 \ 
 
 Then a notion wild and daring, 'spite the income tax's 
 
 narmg 
 
 And a hasty thought of sharing — less than many in- 
 comes are 
 
 Made me put a question private, you can guess what I 
 would drive at. 
 
 " You must work the sum to prove it,'' clanked the 
 careless tonga- bar. 
 
 "Simple Rule of Two will prove it^' lilted back the 
 tonga- bar. 
 
 5m 
 
 It was under Khyraghaut I mused : — Suppose the 
 
 maid be haughty — 
 " [There are lovers rich — and forty] wait some 
 
 v/ealthy Avatar? 
 "Answer, monitor untiring, 'twixt the ponies twain 
 
 perspiring i" 
 
 I:.:' 
 
It 
 
 112 
 
 "AS THE BELL CLINKS" 
 
 " Faint heart never won fair lady^^ creaked the 
 
 straining tonga-bar. 
 " Can I tell you ere you ask Her?" pounded slow the 
 
 tonga-bar. 
 
 I 
 
 Last, the Tara Devi turning showed the lights of Simla 
 
 burning, 
 Lit my little lazy yearning to a fiercer flame by far. 
 As below the Mall we jingled, through my very heart 
 
 it tingled — 
 The reiterated order of the threshing tonga-bar : — 
 " Try your luck — you can't do better/^* twanged the 
 
 loosened tonga-bar. 
 
 
 i ^■ I 
 
 m^ 
 
 i. 
 
 in 
 
 I 
 
I 
 
 CHRISTMAS IN INDIA 
 
 Dim dawn behind the tamarisks — the sky is saffron- 
 yellow — 
 As the women in the village grind the corn, 
 And the parrots seek the rivei ^ide, each calling to 
 his fellow 
 That the Day, the staring Eastern Day, is born. 
 Oh the white dust on the highway! Oh the 
 stenches in the byway ! 
 Oh the clammy fog that hovers over earth ! 
 And at Home they're making merry 'neath the 
 white and scarlet erry — 
 What part have India's exiles in their mirth? 
 
 Full day behind the tamarisks — the sky is blue and 
 staring — 
 As the cattle crawl afield beneath the yoke, 
 And they bear One o'er the field-path who is past all 
 hope or caring. 
 To the ghat below the curling wreaths of smoke. 
 
 113 
 
 5f 
 
 I • t 
 
 "mmifi* ■ 
 
¥ 
 
 ii 
 
 1 
 
 ' ' 
 
 ;• I 
 
 • T 
 
 114 CHRISTMAS IN INDIA 
 
 Call on Rama, going slowly, as ye bear a brother 
 lowly — 
 Call on Rama — he may hear, perhaps, your 
 voice ! 
 With our hymnbooks and our psalters we appeal 
 to other altars, 
 And to-day we bid "good Christian men 
 rejoice! " 
 
 High noon behind the tamarisks — the sun is hot 
 above us — 
 As at Home the Christmas Day is breaking wan. 
 They will drink our healths at dinner — those who 
 tell us how they love us. 
 And forget us till another year be gone ! 
 
 Oh the toil that knows no breaking! Oh the 
 heimweh^ ceaseless, aching! 
 Oh the black dividing Sea and alien Plain ! 
 Youth was cheap — wherefore we sold it. 
 Gold was good — we hoped to hold it. 
 And to-day we know the fulness of our gain. 
 
 Gray dusk behind the tamarisks — the parrots fly 
 together — 
 As the Sun is sinking slowly over Home; 
 
X 
 
 CHRISTMAS IN INDIA 
 
 115 
 
 men 
 
 And his last ray turns to jeer us shackled in a life- 
 long tether 
 That drags us back howe'er so far we roam. 
 
 Hard her service, poor her payment — she in 
 
 ancient, tattered raiment — 
 
 India, she the grim stepmother of our kind. 
 
 If a year of life be lent her, if her temple's 
 
 shrine Tve enter, 
 
 The door is shut — we may not look behind. 
 
 lin I 
 
 Black night behind the tamarisks — the owls begin 
 their chorus — 
 As the conches from the temple scream and bray. 
 With the fruitless years behind U5 and the hopeless 
 years before us, 
 Let us honour, oh my brothers, Christmas Day! 
 Call a truce, then, to our lat.^ours — let us feast 
 with friends and neighbours, 
 And be merry as the custom of our caste; 
 For, if "faint and forced the laughter," and if 
 sadness follow after. 
 We are richer by one mocking Christmas past. 
 
 :k 
 
 1 
 
 if 
 
 It 
 
 i ! 
 
I 
 
 i1 
 
 \r. 
 
 II I 
 It ' 
 
 I I 
 
 i 
 
 THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD 
 
 THERE'S a widoiv in sleepy Chester 
 
 Who weeps for her only son ; 
 There' s a grave on the Pabeng River, 
 
 A grave that the Btir?na?is shun. 
 And there's Subadar Prag Tewarri 
 
 Who tells how the work was done. 
 
 A Snider squibbed in the jungle — 
 
 Somebody laughed and fled, 
 And the men of the First Shikaris 
 
 Picked up their Subaltern dead, 
 With a big blue mark in his forehead 
 
 And the back blown out of his head. 
 
 Subadar Prag Tewarri, 
 
 Jemadar Hira Lai, 
 Took command of the party. 
 
 Twenty rifles in all, 
 Marched them down to the river 
 
 As the day was beginning to fall. 
 
 116 
 
1^1 ' 
 
 THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD 117 
 
 They buried the boy by the river, 
 
 A blanket over his face — 
 They wept for their dead Lieutenant, 
 
 The men of an alien race — 
 They made a samddh in his honour, 
 
 A mark for his resting-place. 
 
 For they swore by the Holy Water, 
 
 They swore by the salt they ate, 
 That the soul of Lieutenant Eshmitt Sahib 
 
 Should go to his God in state; 
 With fifty file of Burman 
 
 To open him Heaven's gate. 
 
 The men of the First Shikaris 
 
 Marched till the break of day. 
 Till they came to the rebel village. 
 
 The village of Pabengmay — 
 A j'mga/ cowered the clearing, 
 
 Calthrops hampered the way. 
 
 1 
 
 
 Subadar Prag Tewarri, 
 
 Bidding them load with ball, 
 Halted a dozen rifles 
 
 Under the village-wall; 
 
 ! 
 
I ■ 
 
 
 I >■ 
 
 \ i 
 
 !) ! 
 
 I : I 
 
 118 THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD 
 
 Sent out a flanking-party 
 With Jemadar Hira Lai. 
 
 The men of the First Shikaris 
 
 Shouted and smote and slew, 
 Turning the grinning j'ingai 
 
 On to the howling crew. 
 The Jemadar's flanking-party 
 
 Butchered the folk who flew. 
 
 Long was the morn of slaughter, 
 
 Long was the list of slain, 
 Five score heads were taken 
 
 Five score heads and twain; 
 And the men of the First Shikaris 
 
 Went back to their grave again; 
 
 Each man bearing a basket 
 
 Red as his palms that day, 
 Red as the blazing village — 
 
 The village of Pabengmay. 
 And the " r/rip-^np-drip " from the baskets 
 
 Reddened the grass by the way. 
 
 They made a pile of their trophies 
 High as a tall man's chin, 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD 119 
 
 Head upon head distorted, 
 
 Clinched in a sightless grin, 
 Anger and pain and terror 
 
 Writ on the smoke-scorched skin. 
 
 Subadar Prag Tewarri 
 
 Set the head of the Boh 
 On the top of the mound of triumph 
 
 The head of his son below, 
 With the sword and the peacock-banner 
 
 That the world might behold and know. 
 
 Thus the samddh was perfect, 
 
 Thus was the lesson plain 
 Of the wrath of the First Shikaris — 
 
 The price of a white man slain; 
 And the men of the First Shikaris 
 
 Went back into camp again. 
 
 Then a silence came to the river, 
 
 A hush fell over the shore. 
 And Bohs that were brave departed, 
 And Sniders squibbed no more ; 
 For the Burmans said 
 That a kullah's head 
 Must be paid for with heads five score. 
 
 !f 
 
 : I 
 
tr. 
 
 
 i i 
 
 ■^ • 
 
 11 I 
 
 f n 
 
 1? 
 
 y ' 
 ■' i 
 
 1 l\ 
 
 II 
 
 120 THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD 
 
 There's a widow in sleepy Chester 
 
 Who weeps for her only son; 
 There's a grave on the Pabeng River, 
 
 A grave that the Burmans shun, 
 And there's Subadar Prag Tewarri 
 
 Who tells how the work was done. 
 
r^m^!rmw^:>-t ..■^.^,.^..... ..,„ ^ „ 
 
 .1 
 
 AN OLD SONG 
 
 So long as 'neath the Kalka hills 
 
 The tonga-horn shall ring, 
 So long as down the Solon dip 
 
 The hard-held ponies swing; 
 So long as Tara Devi sees 
 
 The lights o' Simla town, 
 So long as Pleasure calls us up, 
 
 And duty drives us down, 
 Jf you love me as I love you 
 What pair so happy as we two ? 
 
 So long as Aces take the King, 
 
 Or backers take the bet, 
 So long as debt leads men to wed; 
 
 Or marriage leads to debt; 
 So long as little luncheons, Love, 
 
 And scandal hold their vogue. 
 While there is sport at Annandale 
 
 Or whiskey at Jutogh, 
 
 If you love me as I love you 
 
 What knife can cut our love in two ? 
 
 lai 
 
m 
 
 M 
 
 r 
 
 I 
 
 HI 
 
 122 AN OLD SONG 
 
 So long as down the rocking floor 
 
 The raving polka spins, 
 So long as Kitchen Lancers spur 
 
 The maddened violins; 
 So long as through the whirling smoke 
 
 We hear the oft-told tale : — 
 "Twelve hundred in the Lotteries," 
 
 And Whatshername for sale? 
 If you love me as I love you 
 We^ II play the game and win it too. 
 
 So long as Lust or Lucre tempt 
 
 Straight riders fiom the course. 
 So long as with each drink we pour 
 
 Black brewage of Remorse; 
 So long as those unloaded guns 
 
 We keep beside the bed. 
 Blow off, by obvious accident, 
 
 The lucky owner's head. 
 If you love me as I love you 
 What can Life kill or Death undo 9 
 
 So long as Death 'twixt dance and dance 
 Chills best and bravest blood 
 
 
 M 
 
r-. !r-i -.rrr ■-■a.a:. i*j-^M.- »y-5.<,i.-. ».■. - ^ .. ^ . 
 
 AN OLD SONG 
 
 And drops the reckless rider down 
 
 The rotten, rain soaked Ji/iu(f; 
 So long as rumours from the North 
 
 Make loving wives afraid, 
 So long as Burma claims the boy, 
 And typhoid kills the maid, 
 If you love vie as I love you 
 What knife can cut our love in two ? 
 
 123 
 
 By all that lights our daily life 
 
 Or works our lifelong woe, 
 From Boileaugunge to Simla Downs 
 
 And those grim glades below. 
 Where heedless of the flying hoof 
 
 And clamour overhead, 
 Sleep, with the gray langur for guard 
 
 Our very scornful Dead, 
 If you love me as I love you 
 All Earth is servant to us tivo ! 
 
 w 
 
 By Docket, Billetdoux, and File, 
 By Mountain, Cliff, and Fir, 
 
 By Fan and Sword and Office-box, 
 By Corset, Plume, and Spur; 
 
f 
 i 
 i 
 
 
 II 
 
 !;■ ] 
 
 i I 
 
 124 AN OLD SONG 
 
 By Riot, Revel, Waltz, and War, 
 
 By Woman, Work, and Bills, 
 By all the life that fizzes in 
 The everlasting Hills, 
 
 If you love me as Hove you 
 What pair so happy as we two? 
 
*i^:»«TSl.sasr9c»^T^'*«t^ •_ fe.v. 
 
 CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ 
 
 If It be pleasant to look on, stalled in the packed 
 
 serat^ 
 
 Does not the Young Man try Its temper and pace ere 
 
 he buy? 
 If She be pleasant to look on, what does the Young 
 
 Man say? 
 " Lo ! She is pleasant to look on, give Her to me 
 
 to-day ! " 
 
 Yea, though a Kafir die, to him is remitted Jehannum 
 If he borrowed in life from a native at sixty per cent, 
 per annum. 
 
 Blister we not for bursa ti? So when the heart is vext, 
 The pain of one maiden's refusal is drowned in the 
 pain of the next. 
 
 125 
 
126 
 
 CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ 
 
 i 
 
 The temper of chums, the love of your wife, and a 
 
 new piano's tune — 
 
 Which of the three will you trust at the end of an 
 Indian June? 
 
 5 
 Who are the rulers of Ind — to whom shall we bow 
 the knee? 
 
 Make your peace with the women, and men will make 
 you L. G. 
 
 6 
 
 Does the woodpecker flit round the young /crash ? 
 
 Does grass clothe a new-built wall? 
 Is she under thirty the woman who holds a boy in her 
 
 thrall? 
 
 7 
 
 If She grows suddenly gracious — reflect. Is it all for 
 
 thee? 
 The blackbuck is stalked through the bullock, and 
 Man through jealousy. 
 
 8 
 
 Seek not for favour of women. So shall you find it 
 indeed. 
 
 Does not the boar break cover just when you're light- 
 ing a weed? 
 
 '\ 
 
CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ 127 
 
 If He play, being young and unskilful, for shekels of 
 
 silver and gold. 
 Take His money, my son, praising Allah. The kid 
 
 was ordained to be sold. 
 
 ~ 
 
 lo 
 
 With a "weed " among men or horses verily this is the 
 best, 
 
 That you work him in office or dog-cart lightly — but 
 give him no rest. 
 
 II 
 
 Pleasant the snaffle of Courtship, improving the man- 
 ners and carriage. 
 
 But the colt who is wise will abstain from the terrible 
 thorn-bit of Marriage ; 
 
 12 
 
 As the thriftless gold of the babul so is the gold that 
 
 we spend 
 On a Derby Sweep, or our neighbour's wife, or the 
 
 horse that we buy from a friend. 
 
 l« 
 
128 
 
 CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ 
 
 13 
 
 The ways of man with a maid be strange, yet simple 
 
 and tame 
 To the ways of a man with a horse, when selling or 
 
 racing that same. 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 In public Her face turneth to thee, and pleasant Her 
 
 smile when ye meet. 
 It is ill. The cold rocks of El-Gidar smile thus on 
 
 the waves at their feet. 
 In public Her face is averted, with anger She nameth 
 
 thy name. 
 It is well. Was there ever a loser content with the 
 
 loss of the game ? 
 
 15 
 If She have spoken a word, remember thy lips are 
 
 sealed, 
 And the Brand of the Dog is upon him by whom is 
 
 the secret revealed. 
 If She have wru^cn a letter, delay not an instant but 
 
 burn it. 
 Tear it in pieces, O Fool, and the wind to her mate 
 
 shall return it ! 
 
CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ 
 
 129 
 
 If there be trouble to Herward, and a lie of the 
 
 blackest can clear, 
 Lie, while thy lips can move or a man is alive to hear. 
 
 IS 
 
 )Ut 
 
 ite 
 
 i6 
 
 My Son, if a maiden deny thee and scufflingly bid thee 
 
 give o'er. 
 Yet lip meets with lip at the lastward — get out ! She 
 
 has been there before. 
 They are pecked on the ear and the chin and the 
 
 nose who are lacking in lore. 
 
 17 
 If we fall in the race, though we win, the hoof-slide is 
 
 scarred on the course. 
 Though Allah and Earth pardon Sin, remaineth for 
 
 ever Remorse. 
 
 18 
 
 " By all I am misunderstood ! " if the Matron shall 
 
 say, or the Maid : — 
 " Alas ! I do not understand," my son, be thou nowise 
 a afraid. 
 In vain in the sight of the Bird is tiie net of the 
 
 Fowler displayed. 
 
 t 
 
 ' 
 
r< 
 
 130 
 
 CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ 
 
 *l 
 
 ■ 
 
 ■.h 
 
 19 
 
 My son, if I, Hafiz, thy father, take hold of thy knees 
 
 in my pain, 
 Demanding thy name on stamped paper, one day or 
 
 one hour — refrain. 
 Are the links of thy fetters so light that thou cravest 
 
 another man's chain? 
 
THE MOON OF OTHER DAYS 
 
 Beneath the deep verandah's shade, 
 
 When bats begin to fly, 
 I sit me down and watch — alas 
 
 Another evening die. 
 Blood-red behind the sere /ems/t 
 
 She rises through the haze. 
 Sainted Diana ! can that be 
 
 The Moon of Other Days? 
 
 Ah ! shade of little Kitty Smith, 
 
 Sweet Saint of Kensington ! 
 Say, was it ever thus at Home 
 
 The Moon of August shone. 
 When arm in arm we wandered long 
 
 Through Putney's evening haze, 
 And Hammersmith was Heaven beneath 
 
 The Moon of Other Days? 
 
 But Wandle's stream is Sutlej now, 
 And Putney's evening haze 
 131 
 
 J 
 
 i .1 
 
■ 
 
 5a 
 
 mmmm 
 
 l^P'B"- r "". ,si>^l^"Wp[ 
 
 I 1'^' 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 132 THE MOON OF OTHER DAYS 
 
 The dust that half a hundred kine 
 
 Before my window raise. 
 Unkempt, unclean, athwart the mist 
 
 The seething city looms. 
 In place of Putney's golden gorse 
 
 The sickly babul blooms. 
 
 Glare down, old Hecate, through the dust 
 
 And bid the pie-dog yell, 
 Draw from the drain its typhoid germ. 
 
 From each bazar its smell; 
 Yea, suck the fever from the tank 
 
 And sap my strength therewith: 
 Thank Heaven, you show a smiling face 
 
 To little Kitty Smith 1 
 
« 
 
 THE FALL OF JOCK GILLESPIE 
 
 This fell when dinner-time was done — 
 'Twixt the first an' the second rub — 
 
 That oor mon Jock cam' hame again 
 To his rooms ahint the Club. 
 
 An' syne he laughed, an' syne he sang, 
 
 An' syne we thocht him fou. 
 An' syne he trumped his partner's trick, 
 
 An' garred his partner rue. 
 
 Then up and spake an elder mon. 
 
 That held the Spade its Ace — 
 "God save the lad ! Whence comes the licht 
 
 "That wimples on his face? " 
 
 An' Jock he sniggered, an' Jock he smiled, 
 An' ower the card-brim wunk : -- 
 
 "I'm a' too fresh fra' the stirrup-peg, 
 "Maybe that I am drunk." 
 188 
 
 S l! 
 
134 
 
 THE FALL OF JOCK GILLESPIE 
 
 "There's whusky brewed in Galashiels, 
 
 "An' L. L. L. forbye; 
 " But never liquor lit the low 
 That keeks fra' oot your eye. 
 
 (( i^r 
 
 "There's a thrid o' hair on your dress-coat breast, 
 
 " Aboon the heart a wee? " 
 " Oh ! that is fra' the lang-haired Skye 
 
 "That slobbers ower me." 
 
 "Oh! lang-haired Skyes are lovin' beasts, 
 
 "An' terrier dogs are fair, 
 " But never yet was terrier born, 
 
 "Wi' ell-lang gowden hair! 
 
 I'' 
 
 "There's a smirch o' pouther on your breast, 
 
 "Below the left lappel?" 
 "Oh! that is fra' my auld cigar, 
 
 "VVhenas the stump-end fell." 
 
 " Mon Jock, ye smoke the Trichi coarse, 
 
 " P'or ye are short o' cash. 
 "An' best Havannahs couldna leave, 
 
 "Sae white an' pure an ash. 
 
THE FALL OF JOCK GILLESPIE 
 
 "This nicht ye stopped a story braid, 
 "An' stopped it wi' a curse — 
 
 "Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel, 
 "An' capped it wi' a worse! 
 
 " Oh ! we're no fou ! Oh ! we're no fou ! 
 
 " But plainly we can ken 
 "Ve'refallin', fallin', fra' the band 
 
 "O' cantie sing'- men! " 
 
 An' it fell when j-/>m-shaws were sere. 
 An' the nichts were lang and mirk, ' 
 
 In braw new breeks, wi' a gowden ring, 
 Oor Jockie gaed to the Kirk. 
 
 135 
 
\ 
 
 I'. 
 
 kjl 
 
 'i i 
 
 i; 
 
 WHAT THE PEOPLE SAID 
 
 [June 2ist, 1887] 
 
 3y the well, where the bullocks go 
 
 Silent and blind and slow — 
 
 By the field, where the young corn dies 
 
 In the face of the sultry skies. 
 
 They have heard, as the dull Earth hears 
 
 The voice of the wind of an hour, 
 
 The sound of the Great Queen's voice: — 
 
 " My God hath given me years, 
 
 " Hath granted dominion and power : 
 
 "And I bid you, O Land, rejoice." 
 
 And the Ploughman settles the share 
 More deep in the grudging clod; 
 For he saith : — "The wheat is my care, 
 "And the rest is the will of God. 
 " He sent the Mahratta spear 
 "As He sendeth the rain, 
 " And the Mlech, in the fated year, 
 " Broke the spear in twain, 
 
 136 
 
WHAT THE PEOPLE SAID 137 
 
 " And was broken in turn. Who knows 
 " How our Lords make strife ? 
 " It is good that the young wheat grows, 
 "For the bread is Life." 
 
 Then, far and near, as the twilight drew, 
 
 Hissed up to the scornful dark 
 Great serpents, blazing, of red and blue, 
 That rose and faded, and rose anew, 
 
 That the Land might wonder and mark. 
 "To-day is a day of da3's," they said, 
 " Make merry, O People all ! " 
 And the Ploughman listened and bowed his head : 
 "To-day and to-morrow God's Will," he said, 
 As he trimmed the lamps on the wall. 
 
 " He sendeth us years that are good, 
 " As He sendeth the dearth. 
 "He giveth to each man his food, 
 " Or Her food to the Earth. 
 "Our Kings and our Queens are afar — 
 "On their peoples be peace — 
 " God bringeth the rain to the Bar, 
 "That our cattle increase." 
 
138 
 
 WHAT THE PEOPLE SAID 
 
 ';». 
 
 And the Ploughman settled the share 
 
 More deep in the sun-dried clod : — 
 
 " Mogul, Mahratta, and Mlech from the North, 
 
 " And White Queen over the Seas — 
 
 " God raiseth them up and driveth them forth 
 
 "As the dust of the ploughshare flies in the breeze; 
 
 " But the wheat and the cattle are all my care, 
 
 "And the rest is the will of God." 
 
 h 
 
 ii 'I : ; ' f 
 
THE UNDERTAKER'S HORSE 
 
 " To-tschin-shu is condemned to death. Ho^o can he 
 dnnk tea ^ith the executioner?^^ ^^^^^^^,^ ^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 The eldest son bestrides him, 
 
 And the pretty daughter ridel him, 
 
 And I meet him oft o' mornings on me Course : 
 
 And there wakens in my bosom 
 
 An emotion chill and gruesome 
 
 As I canter past the Undertaker's Horse. 
 
 Neither shies he nor is restive, 
 J^ut a hideously suggestive 
 Trot, professional and placid, he afferi<? ; 
 And the cadence of his hoof-beats 
 To my mind this grim reproof beats : — 
 "Mend your pace, my friend, I'm coming. WhoV 
 the next?" 
 
 Ah! stud-bred of ill omen, 
 I have watched the strongest go - men 
 
 139 
 
 I 
 
 I i 
 
 'I 
 
 J 
 
Iff 
 
 140 
 
 THE UNDERTAKER'S HORSE 
 
 i\ 
 
 I- 
 
 Of pith and might and muscle — at your heels, 
 Down the plantain-bordered highway 
 (Heaven send it ne'er be my way !), 
 In a lacquered box and jetty upon wheels. 
 
 Answer, sombre beast and dreary, 
 
 Where is Brown, the young, the cheery. 
 
 Smith, the pride of all his friends and half the Force ? 
 
 You were at that last diead dak 
 
 We must cover at a walk. 
 
 Bring them back to me, O Undertaker's Horse ! 
 
 With your mane unhogged and flowing, 
 
 And your curious way of going, 
 
 And that business-like black crimping of your tail, 
 
 E'en with Beauty on your back. Sir, 
 
 Pacing as a lady's hack. Sir, 
 
 What wonder when I meet you I turn pale ? 
 
 It may be you wait your time. Beast, 
 
 Till I write my last bad rhyme. Beast, 
 
 Quit the sunlight, cut the rhyming, drop the glass, 
 
 Follow after with the others. 
 
 Where some dusky heathen smothers 
 
 Us with marigolds in lieu of English grass. 
 
THE UNDERTAKER'S HORSE 
 Or, perchance, in years to follow, 
 I shall watch your plump sides hollow, 
 See Carnifex (gone lame) become a corse, 
 See old age at last o'erpower you. 
 And the Station Pack devour you, 
 I shall chuckle then, O Undertaker's Horse ! 
 
 But to insult, gibe, and quest, I've 
 
 Still the hideously suggestive 
 
 Trot that hammers out the unrelenting text, 
 
 And 1 hear it hard behind me 
 
 In what place soe'er I find me : — 
 
 " Sure to catch you sooner or later. Who's the next ? " 
 
 141 
 
 i 'I 
 
 
it 
 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 li 
 
 
 
 ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 Lord Dufferin to Lord Lansdowne : — 
 
 So here's your Empire. No more wine, then ? Good, 
 We'll clear the Aides and khitmatgars away. 
 (You'll know that fat old fellow with the knife — 
 He keeps the Name Book, talks in English, too, 
 And almost thinks himself the Government.) 
 
 Youth, Youth, Youth ! Forgive me, you're so 
 
 young. 
 Forty from sixty — twenty years of work 
 And power to back the working. Ay de mi ! 
 You want to know, you want to see, to touch 
 And, by your lights, to act. It's natural. 
 
 1 wonder can I help you. Let me try. 
 
 You saw — what did you see from Bombay east? 
 Enough to frighten any one but me ? 
 Neat that ! It frightened Me in Eighty- Four ! 
 You shouldn't take a man from Canada 
 And bid him smoke in powder-magazines ; 
 Nor with a Reputation such as . . . Bah ! 
 That ghost has haunted me for twenty years, 
 
 142 
 
 \\ 
 
ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 143 
 
 % 
 
 My Reputation now full-blown — Your fault — 
 
 Yours, with your stories of the strife at Home, 
 
 Who's up, who's down, who leads and who is led — 
 
 One reads so much, one hears so little here. 
 
 Well, now's your turn of exile. I go back 
 
 To Rome and leisure. All roads lead to Rome. 
 
 Or books — the refuge of the destitute. 
 
 When you . . . that brings me back to India. See ! 
 
 Start clear. / couldn't. Egypt served my turn. 
 You'll never plumb the Oriental mind, 
 And if you did it isn't worth the toil. 
 Think of a sleek P>ench priest in Canada ; 
 Divide by twenty half-breeds. Multiply 
 By twice the Sphinx's silence. There's your East, 
 And you're as wise as ever. So am I. 
 
 Accept on trust and work in darkness, strike 
 At venture, stumble forward, make your mark, 
 (It's chalk on granite,) then thank God no flame 
 Leaps from the rock to shrivel mark and man. 
 I'm clear — my .nark is made. Three months of 
 
 drouth 
 Had ruined much. It rained and washed away 
 The specks that might have gathered on my Name. 
 I took a country twice the size of France, 
 And shuttered up one doorway in the North. 
 
 • m 
 
f 
 
 1(1 
 
 
 I! 
 
 144 
 
 ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 I stand by those. You'll find that both will pay, 
 
 I pledged my Name on both — they're yours to-night. 
 
 Hold to them — they hold fame enough for two. 
 
 I'm old, but I shall live till Burma pays. 
 
 Men there — not German traders — Cr-sthw-te knows — 
 
 You'll find it in my papers. For the North 
 
 Guns always — quietly — but always guns. 
 
 You've seen your Council ? Yes, they'll try to rule, 
 
 And prize their Reputations. Have you met 
 
 A grim lay-reader with a taste for coins, 
 
 And faith in Sin most men withhold from God ? 
 
 He's gone to England. R-p-n knew his grip 
 
 And kicked. A Council always has its H-pes. 
 
 They look for nothing from the West but Death 
 
 Or Bath or Bournemouth. Here's their ground. 
 
 They fight 
 Until the middle classes take them back. 
 One of ten millions plus a C. S. I. 
 Or drop in harness. Legion of the Lost ? 
 Not altogether — earnest, narrow men. 
 But chiefly earnest, and they'll do your work, 
 And end by writing letters to the Times. 
 (Shall /write letters, answering H-nt-r — fawn 
 With R-p n on the Yorkshire grocers? Ugh !) 
 They have their Reputations. Look to one — 
 
ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 145 
 
 I work with him — the smallest of them all, 
 White-haired, red-faced, who sat the plunging horse 
 Out in the garden. He's your right-hand man, 
 And dreams of tilting W-ls-y from the throne, 
 But while he dreams gives work we cannot buy ; 
 He has his Reputation — wants the Lords 
 By way of Frontier Roads. Meantime, I think, 
 He values very much the hand that falls 
 Upon his shoulder at the Council table — 
 Hates cats and knows his business : which is yours. 
 Your business ! Twice a hundred million souls. 
 Your business ! I could tell you what I did 
 Some nights of Eighty- Five, at Simla, worth 
 A Kingdom's ransom. When a big ship drives 
 God knows to what new reef, the man at the wheel 
 Prays with the passengers. They lose their lives, 
 Or rescued go their way ; but he's no man 
 To take his trick at the wheel again — that's worse 
 Than drowning. Well, a galled Mashobra mule 
 (You'll see Mashobra) passed me on the Mall, 
 And I was — some fool's wife had ducked and bowed 
 To show the others I would stop and speak. 
 Then the mule fell — three galls, a hand-breadth each, 
 Behind the withers. Mrs. Whatsisname 
 Leers at the mule and me by turns, thwcet thoul 1 
 
 1^ I 
 
146 
 
 ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 « 
 
 How could they make him carry such a load 
 
 >; I 
 
 -' 1 y 
 
 I saw — it isn't often I dream dreams — 
 More than the mule that minute — smoke and flame 
 From Simla to the haze below. That's weak. 
 You're younger. You'll dream dreams before you've 
 
 done. 
 You've youth, that's one — good workmen — that 
 
 means two 
 Fair chances in your favour. Fate's the third. 
 I know what / did. Do you ask me, " Preach ? " 
 I answer by my past or else go back 
 To platitudes of rule — or take you thus 
 In confidence and say : — " You know the trick : 
 "You've governed Canada. You know. K^/zknow!" 
 And all the while commend you to Fate's hand 
 (Here at the top one loses sight o' God), 
 Commend you, then, to something more than you — 
 The Other People's blunders and . . . that's all. 
 I'd agonize to serve you if I could. 
 It's incommunicable, Hke the cast 
 That drops the tackle with the gut adry. 
 Too much — too little — there's your salmon lost 1 
 And so I tell you nothing — wish you luck, 
 And wonder — how I wonder ! — for your sake 
 And triumph for my own. You're young, you're young. 
 
ONE VICL 'OY RESIGNS 
 
 147 
 
 ve 
 
 lat 
 
 1" 
 
 »g. 
 
 You hold to half a hundred Shibboleths. 
 I'm old. I followed Power to the last, 
 Gave her my best, and Power followed Me. 
 It's worth it — on my soul I'm speaking plain, 
 Here by the claret glasses ! — worth it all. 
 I gave — no matter what I gave — I win. 
 I know I win. Mine's work, good work that lives ! 
 A country twice the size of France — the North 
 Safeguarded. That's my record : sink the rest 
 And better if you can. The Rains may serve. 
 Rupees may rise — three pence will give you Fame 
 It's rash to hope for sixpence — If they rise 
 Get guns, more guns, and lift the salt-tax. 
 
 Oh! 
 I told you what the Congress meant or thought? 
 I'll answer nothing. Half a year \ ill prove 
 The full extent of time and thought you'll spare 
 To Congress. Ask a Lady Doctor once 
 How little Begums see the light — deduce 
 Thence how the True Reformer's child is born. 
 It's interesting, curious . . . and vile. 
 I told the Turk he was a gentleman. 
 I told the Russian that his Tartar veins 
 Bled pure Parisian ichor; and he purred. 
 The Congress doesn't purr. I think it swears. 
 
148 
 
 ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 \ >■ 
 
 You're young — you'll swear too ere you've reached 
 
 the end. 
 The End! God help you, if there be a God. 
 (There must be one to startle Gl-dst-ne's soul 
 In that new land where all the wires are cut, 
 And Cr-ss snores anthems on the asphodel.) 
 God help you! And I'd help you if I could, 
 But that's beyond me. Yes, your speech was crude, 
 Sound claret after olives — yours and mine; 
 But Medoc slips into vin ordinaire. 
 (I'll drink my first at Genoa to your health) 
 Raise it to Hock. You'll never catch my style. 
 And, after all, the middle-classes grip 
 The middle-class — for Brompton talk Earl's Court. 
 Perhaps you're right. I'll see you in the Times — 
 A quarter-column of eye-searing print, 
 A leader once a quarter — then a war; 
 The Strand abellow through the fog : — " Defeat ! " 
 " 'Orrible slaughter ! " While you lie awake 
 And wonder. Oh, you'll wonder ere you're free! 
 I wonder now. The four years slide away 
 So fast, so fast, and leave me here alone. 
 R — y C-lv-n, L — 1, R-b-rts, B-ck, the rest. 
 Prince: and Powers of Darkness, troops and trains, 
 (I cannot ^\qq'^ in trains,) land piled on land. 
 
ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 149 
 
 :hed 
 
 ude. 
 
 urt. 
 
 II 
 
 
 Whitewash and weariness, red rockets, dust, 
 
 White snows that mocked me, palaces —with 
 
 draughts, 
 And W-stl-nd with the drafts he couldn't pay, 
 Poor W-is-n reading his obituary 
 Before he died, and H-pe, the man with bones, 
 And A-tch-s-n a dripping mackintosh 
 At Council in the Rains, hie grating "Sirrr " 
 Half drowned by H-nt-r's silky : — " Bat my lahd." 
 Hunterian always: M-rsh-1 spinning plates 
 Or standing on his head; the Rent Bill's roar, 
 A hurnired thousand speeches, much red cloth, 
 And Smiths thrice happy if I call them Jones, 
 (I can't remember half their names) or reined 
 My pony on the Mall to greet their wives. 
 More trains, more troops, more dust, and then all's 
 
 done. 
 Four years, and I forget. If I forget 
 How will they bear me in their minds? The North 
 Safeguarded — nearly (R-b-rts knows the rest), 
 A country twice the size of France annexed. 
 That stays at least. The rest may pass — may pass — 
 Your heritage — and I can teach you naught. 
 "High trust," "vast honour," "interests twice as 
 
 vast," 
 
 s 
 
I' 
 
 fh 
 
 
 150 
 
 ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 
 
 % 
 
 " Due reverence to your Council " — keep to those. 
 I envy }'ou the twenty years you've gained, 
 But not the five to follow. What's that? One ! 
 Two! — Surely not so late. Good-night. Don't 
 dream. 
 
THE GALLEY-SLAVE 
 
 Oh gallant was our galley from her carven steering- 
 wheel 
 
 To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered 
 steel; 
 
 The leg-bar chafed the ankle and we gasped for 
 cooler air, 
 
 But no galley on the water with our galley could 
 compare ! 
 
 Our bulkheads bulged with cotton and our masts were 
 
 stepped in gold — 
 We ran a mighty merchandise of niggers in the hold; 
 The white foam spun behind us, and the black shark 
 
 swam below, 
 As we gripped the kicking sweep-head and we made 
 
 that galley go. 
 
 'Twas merry in the galley, for we revelled now and 
 
 then — 
 If they wore us down like cattle, faith, we fought and 
 
 loved like men ! 
 
 161 
 
 l\ 
 
152 
 
 THE GALLEY-SLAVE 
 
 
 1' 
 
 ^it 
 
 As we snatched her through the water, so we snatched 
 
 a minute's bliss, 
 And the mutter of the dying never spoiled the lovers' 
 
 kiss. 
 
 Our women and our children toiled beside us in the 
 
 dark — 
 They died, we filed their fetters, and we heaved them 
 
 to the shark — 
 We heaved them to the fishes, but so fast the galley 
 
 sped 
 We had only time to envy, for we could not mourn 
 
 our dead. 
 
 Bear witness, once my comrades, what a hard-bit 
 
 gang were we — 
 The servants of the sweep-head but the masters of the 
 
 sea! 
 By the hands that drove her forward as she plunged 
 
 and yawed and sheered. 
 Woman, Man, or God or Devil, was there anything 
 
 we feared? 
 
 Was it storm? Our fathers faced it and a wilder 
 never blew; 
 
 

 THE GALLEY-SLAVE 
 
 153 
 
 Earth that waited for the wreckage watched the galley 
 struggle through. 
 
 Burning noon or choking midnight, Sickness, Sorrow, 
 Parting, Death? 
 
 Nay, our very babes would mock you had they time 
 for idle breath. 
 
 my 
 
 But to-day I leave the galley and another takes 
 place; 
 
 There's my name upon the deck-beam - let it stand 
 a little space. 
 
 I am free -to watch my messmates beating out to 
 open main 
 
 Free of all that Life can offer -save to handle sweep 
 again. 
 
 By the brand upon my shoulder, by the gall of cling- 
 ing steel, 
 
 By the welt the whips have left me, by the scars that 
 never heal; 
 
 By eyes grown old with staring through the sun-wash 
 on the brine, 
 
 I am paid in full for service - would that service 
 still were mine ! 
 
 I 
 
 
154 
 
 THE GALLEY-SLAVE 
 
 r 
 
 
 \i 
 
 Yet they talk of times and seasons and of woe the 
 
 years bring forth, 
 Of our galley swamped and shattered in the rollers of 
 
 the North. 
 When the niggers break the hatches and the decks 
 
 are gay with gore, 
 And a craven-hearted pilot crams her crashing on the 
 
 shore. 
 
 She will need no half-mast signal, minute-gun, or 
 
 rocket-flare, 
 When the cry for help goes seaward, she will find her 
 
 servants there. 
 Battered chain-gangs of the orlop, grizzled drafts of 
 
 years gone by. 
 To the bench that broke their manhood, they shall 
 
 lash themselves and die. 
 
 Hale and crippled, young and aged, paid, deserted, 
 shipped away — 
 
 Palace,cot, and lazaretto shall makeup the tale that day 
 
 When the skies are black above them, and the decks 
 ablaze beneath, 
 
 And the top-men clear the rafHe with their clasp- 
 knives in their teeth. 
 
 ii 
 
THE GALLEY-SLAVE 
 
 155 
 
 It may be that Fate will give me life and leave to 
 row once more — 
 
 Set some strong man free for fighting as I take awhile 
 his oar. 
 
 But to-day I leave the galley. Shall I curse her ser- 
 vice then? 
 
 God be thanked — whate'er comes after, I have lived 
 and toiled with Men ! 
 
A TALE OF TWO CITIES 
 
 I 
 
 < 
 
 'I 
 
 Where the sober-coloured cultivator smiles 
 
 On his l>y/es; 
 Where the cholera, the cyclone, and the crow 
 
 Come and go; 
 Where the merchant deals in indigo and tea, 
 
 Hides and g/it; 
 Where the Babu drops inflammatory hints 
 
 In his prints j 
 Stands a City — Charnock chose it — packed away 
 
 Near a Bay — 
 By the sewage rendered fetid, by the sewer 
 
 Made impure, 
 By the Sunderbunds unwholesome, by the swamp 
 
 Moist and dampj 
 And the City and the Viceroy, as we see, 
 
 Don't agree. 
 
 ■X 
 
 Once, two hundred years ago, the trader came 
 
 Meek and tame. 
 166 
 
 P 1 i 
 
A TALE OF TWO CITIES 
 
 157 
 
 Where his timid foot first halted, there he stayed, 
 
 Till mere trade 
 Grew to Empire, and he sent his armies forth 
 
 South and North. 
 Till the country from Peshawar to Ceylon 
 
 Was his own. 
 Thus the midday halt of Charnock — more's the pity ! 
 
 Grew a City. 
 As the fungus sprouts chaotic from its bed, 
 
 So it spread — 
 Chance-directed, chance-erected, laid and built 
 
 On the silt — 
 Palace, byre, hovel — poverty and pride — 
 
 Side by Side; 
 And, above the packed and pestilential town, 
 
 Death looked down. 
 
 But the Rulers in that City by the Sea, 
 
 Turned to flee — 
 Fled, with each returning Spring-tide from its ills 
 
 To -he Hills. 
 From the clammy fogs of morning, from the blaze 
 
 Of the days, 
 From the sickness of the noontide, from the heat, 
 
 Beat retreatj 
 
 
 ill 
 
 i.! .. 'I 
 

 158 
 
 A TALE OF TWO CITIES 
 
 For the country from Peshawar to Ceylon 
 
 Was their own. 
 But the Merchant risked the perils of the Plain 
 
 For his gain. 
 Now the resting-place of Charnock, 'neath the palms, 
 
 Asks an alms, 
 And the burden of its lamentation is, 
 
 Briefly, this : — 
 " Because, for certain months, we boil and stew, 
 
 " So should you. 
 "Cast the Viceroy and his Council, to perspire 
 
 "In our fire! " 
 And for answer to the argument, in vain 
 
 We explain 
 That an amateur Saint Lawrence cannot cry : — 
 
 "^// must fry!" 
 That the Merchant risks the perils of the Plain 
 
 For his gain. 
 Nor can Rulers rule a house that men grow rich in, 
 
 From its kitchen. 
 
 Let the Babu drop inflammatory hints 
 
 In his prints; 
 And mature — consistent soul — his plan for stealing 
 
 To Darjeeling: 
 
A TALE OF TWO CITIES 
 
 159 
 
 Let the Merchant seek, who makes his silver pile, 
 
 England's isle; 
 Let the City Charnock pitched on — evil day! 
 
 Go Her way. 
 Though the argosies of Asia at Her doors 
 
 Heap their stores. 
 Though Her enterprise and energy secure 
 
 Income sure, 
 Though " out-station orders punctually obeyed " 
 
 Swell Her trade — • 
 Stiil, for rule, administration, and the rest 
 
 Simla's best. 
 
 f, 
 
IN SPRING TIME 
 
 My garden blazes brightly with the rose-bush and the 
 peach, 
 And the k'dil sings above it, in the siris by the well, 
 From the creeper-covered trellis comes the squirrel's 
 chattering speech. 
 And the blue jay screams and flutters where the 
 cheery satbhai dwell. 
 But the rose has lost its fragrance, and the koWs note 
 is strange; 
 I am sick of endless sunshine, sick of blossom- 
 burdened bough. 
 Give me back the leafless woodlands where the winds 
 of Springtime range — 
 Give me back one day in England, for it's Spring 
 in England now ! 
 Through the pines the gusts are booming, o'er the 
 brown fields blowing chill. 
 From the furrow of the plough-share streams the 
 fragrance of the loam, 
 
 160 
 
IN SPRING TIME isj 
 
 And the hawk nests in the cliffside and the jackdaw 
 on the hill, 
 
 And my heart is back in England 'mid the sights 
 and sounds of Home. 
 But the garland of the sacrifice this wealth of rose 
 and peach is, 
 Ah ! koil, little koil, singing on the siris bough, 
 In my ears the knell of exile your ceaseless bell-like 
 speech is — 
 
 Can you tell me aught of England or of Spring in 
 England now? 
 
 uil 
 
 I 
 
f 
 
 GIFFEN'S DEBT 
 
 Imprimis he was "broke." Thereafter left 
 His regiment and, later, took to drink; 
 Then, having lost the balance of his friends, 
 "Went Fantee " — joined the people of the land, 
 Turned three parts Mussulman and one Hindu, 
 And lived among the Gauri villagers. 
 Who gave him shelter and a wife or twain. 
 And boasted that a thorough, full-blood sahib 
 Had come among them. Thus he spent his time, 
 Deeply indebted to the village shroff, 
 (Who never asked for payment) always drunk, 
 Unclean, abominable, out-at-heels; 
 Forgetting that he was an Englishman. 
 
 You know they dammed the Gauri with a dam, 
 And all the good contractors scamped their work. 
 And all the bad material at hand 
 Was used to dam the Gauri — which was cheap, 
 And, therefore, proper. Then the Gauri burst. 
 And several hundred thousand cubic tons 
 
 102 
 
 y. 
 
 KiMMffMhwi a«aMM»ft>« ' 
 
GIFFEN^S DEBT 
 
 163 
 
 Of water dropped into the valley, flop^ 
 
 And drowned some five ard twenty villagers, 
 
 And did a lakh or two of detriment 
 
 To crops and cattle. When the flood went down 
 
 We found him d ^ad, beneath an old dead horse, 
 
 Full six miles down the valley. Sn we said 
 
 He was a victim to the Demon Drink, 
 
 And moralized upon him for a week, 
 
 And then forgot him. Which was natural. 
 
 time, 
 
 ip, 
 it, 
 
 But, in the valley of the Gauri, men 
 
 Beneath the shadow of the big new dam. 
 
 Relate a foolish legend of the flood. 
 
 Accounting for the little loss of life 
 
 (Only those five and twenty villagers) 
 
 In this wise : — On the evening of the flood, 
 
 They heard the groaning of the rotten dam, 
 
 And voices of the Mountain Devils. Then 
 
 An incarnation of the local God, 
 
 Mounted upon a monster-neighing horse, 
 
 And flourishing a flail-like whip, came down. 
 
 Breathing ambrosia, to the villages, 
 
 And fell upon the simple villagers 
 
 With yells beyond the power of mortal throat. 
 
 And blows beyond the power of mortal hand, 
 
I 
 
 iH 
 
 164 
 
 GIFFEN'S DEBT 
 
 And smote them with the flail-like whip, and drove 
 Them clamorous with terror up the hill, 
 And scattered, with the monster-neighing steed, 
 Their crazy cottages about their ears, 
 And generally cleared those villages. 
 Then came the water, and the local God, 
 Breathing ambrosia, flourishing his whip. 
 And mounted on his monster-neighing steed, 
 Went down the valley with the flying trees 
 And residue of homesteads, while they vvatched 
 Safe on the mountain-side these wondrous things, 
 And knew that they were much beloved of Heaven. 
 
 Wherefore, and when the dam was newly built, 
 
 They raised a temple to the local God, 
 
 And burnt all manner of unsavoury things 
 
 Upon his altar, and created priests. 
 
 And blew into a conch and banged a bell, 
 
 And told the story of the Gauri flood 
 
 With circumstance and much embroidery. 
 
 So be, the whiskified Objectionable, 
 
 Unclean, abominable, out-at-heels. 
 
 Became the tutelary Deity 
 
 Of all the Gauri valley villages; 
 
 And may in time become a Solar Myth. 
 
 
\\\ 
 
 md drove 
 steed, 
 
 ■m 
 
 ched 
 
 things, 
 
 Heaven. 
 
 uilt. 
 
 T70 MONTHS 
 In June 
 
 No hope, no change ! The clouds have shut us in. 
 And through the cloud the sullen Sun strikes down 
 Full on the bosom of the tortured Town. 
 Till Night falls heavy as remembered sin 
 That will not suffer sleep or thought of ease. 
 And, hour on hour, the dry-eyed Moon in spite 
 Glares through the haze and mocks with watery light 
 The torment of the uncomplaining trees. 
 Far off, the Thunder bellows her despair 
 To echoing Earth thrice parched. The lightnings fly 
 In vain. No help the heaped-up clouds afford. 
 But wearier weight of burdened, burning air., 
 What truce with Dawn? Look, from the aching sky 
 Day stalks, a tyrant with a flaming sword ! 
 
 105 
 
 'i 
 

 't.l 
 
 I 
 
 W !• 
 
 TWO MONTHS 
 
 In September 
 
 At dawn there was a murmur in the trees, 
 A ripple on the tank, and in the air 
 Presage of coming coolness — everywhere 
 
 A voice of prophecy upon the breeze. 
 
 Up leapt the Sun and smote the dust to gold. 
 And strove to parch anew the heedless land. 
 
 All impotently, as a King grown old 
 Wars for the Empire crumbling 'neath his hand. 
 
 One after one, the lotos-petals fell, 
 Beneath the onslaught of the rebel year 
 In mutiny against a furious sky; 
 And far-off Winter whispered : — " It is well ! 
 " Hot Summer dies. Behold your help is near, 
 "For when men's need is sorest, then come I." 
 
 166 
 
 ?/ 
 
 f 
 
 4 }\ w 
 
 
s, 
 
 ere 
 
 jold, 
 land, 
 
 his hand. 
 
 ell ! 
 ; near, 
 ne I." 
 
 L' ENVOI 
 
 [ JJ? whom it may concern'\ 
 
 The smoke upon your Altar dies, 
 
 The flowers decay, 
 The Goddess of your sacrifice 
 
 Has flown away. 
 What profit then to sing or slay 
 The sacrifice from 'ay to day? 
 
 "We know the ?=" "ne ,. void," they said, 
 
 "TheGodd.bo fl'.wn — 
 "Yet wreaths pre on the altar laid — 
 
 "TheAltar^ ...le 
 " Is black with fumes of sacrifice, 
 "Albeit She has fled our eyes. 
 
 "For, it may be, if still we sing 
 
 "And tend the Shrine, 
 " Some Deity on wandering wing 
 
 "May there incline; 
 "And, finding all in order meet, 
 "Stay while we worship at Her feet." 
 167 
 
 If 
 
 ill 
 
 " ■ "^^ ' ■a owii «* !■ mw iiiMt % 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 
 >ll'i< 
 
 'ffl 
 
 Vi 
 
Co 
 
 WOLCOTT BALESTIER 
 
 it 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
 '/i 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The greater part of the ' Barrack- Room 
 Ballads,' as well as * Cleared,' * Tomlinson,' 
 and ^ The English Flag ' have appeared in the 
 
 * National Observer: Messrs, Macniiiu.n and 
 Co. have kitidly given me permission to repro- 
 duce/our ballads contributed to their Magazine, 
 and I am indebted to the * St. James Gazette ' 
 
 for a like courtesy in regard to the ballads of 
 the ' Clampherdown' and ' Bolivar; and the 
 
 * Imperial Rescript. ' * The Rhyme of the Three 
 Captains ' was printed first in the ' Athencsum: 
 I fancy that most of the other verses are new. 
 
 I 
 
 RUDYARD KIPLING. 
 
 n 
 
i> A 
 
 Beyond the path of the outmost sun, through utter dark- 
 ness hurled. 
 Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled. 
 Sit such a f fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made 
 our world. 
 
 They are purged of pride because they died; they kno^u the 
 
 worth of their bays ; 
 They sit at wine with the Maidens Alne, and the Gods of 
 
 the Elder Days — 
 // is their will to serve or be still as fitteth our Father^s 
 
 praise. 
 
 "'TIS theirs to sweep through the ringing deep where AzraeVs 
 
 outposts are. 
 Or buffet a path through the Pits red wrath when God goes 
 
 out to war, 
 Or hang with the reckless Seraphim on the rein of a red- 
 
 mancd star. 
 
 They take their mirth in the Joy of the eari,'' — they dare not 
 
 grieve for her pain — 
 For they kno7U of toil and the end of toil — they knoiv God^s 
 
 Law is plain ; 
 So they whistle the Devil to make them sport who know that 
 
 sin is vain. 
 
 And ofttimes cometh our wise Lord God, master of every 
 trade. 
 
 And tells them tales of the Seventh Day — of Edens nnvly 
 made. 
 
 And they rise to their feet as He passes by — gentlemen un- 
 afraid. 
 
I '1 
 
 3 
 
 To these who are cleansed of base Desire,, Sorrow and 
 
 Ltist and Shame — 
 Gods^ for they knew the heart of Men — men^ for they 
 
 stooped to Fafne — 
 Borne on the breath that men call Death, my brother'' s spirit 
 
 came. 
 
 Scarce had he need to cast his pride or slough the dross of 
 
 earth. 
 E'en as he trod that day to God, so walked he from his 
 
 birth — 
 In simpleness and gentleness and honour and clean mirth. 
 
 So, cup to lip in fellowship , they gave him welcome high 
 And made him place at the banquet board, the Strong Men 
 
 ranged thereby, 
 Who had done his work and held his peace and had no fear 
 
 to die. 
 
 • 
 
 Beyond the loom of the last lone star through open darkness 
 
 hurled. 
 Further than rebel comet dared or hiving star-swarm 
 
 swirled, 
 Sits he with such as praise our God for that they served 
 
 his world. 
 
 'V 
 
 \\ 
 
Sorrow and 
 'tt, for they 
 other's spirit 
 
 \ the dross of 
 he from his 
 clean mirth. 
 
 home high 
 f Strong Men 
 
 d had no fear 
 
 )pen darkness 
 star-swarm 
 it they served 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Ballads 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST 
 
 Oh East is East, and West is West, and never the 
 
 twain shall meet, 3 
 
 THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 Udai Chand lay sick to death, 12 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S MERCY 
 
 Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the 
 
 story toW, 18 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S JEST 
 
 When spring-time flushes the desert grass, . . 25 
 
 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 The wreath of banquet overnight lay withered on the 
 
 neck, 31 
 
 THE BALLAD OF BOH DA THONE 
 
 This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone, ... 40 
 
 THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER CATTLE THIEF 
 
 woe is me for the merry life, • • • • S3 
 
 zi 
 
 k 
 
1 1 
 
 > 
 
 ffr 
 
 ! I 
 
 Xll 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE RHYME OF ^IIZ THRiLS CAPTAINS 
 . . . At the close .-f s. virer day, . 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE 'CLAMPHERDOWN' 
 It was our war-ship ' Clampherdown,' 
 
 PAGE 
 
 56 
 
 64 
 
 
 "a 
 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE 'BOLIVAR' 
 
 Seven men ;iom all the world, back to docks agfin, 69 
 
 THE LOST LEGION 
 
 There's a legion that never was 'listed, . 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 Er-Heb beyond the hills of Ac-Safai, 
 
 THE DOVE OF DACCA 
 
 The freed dove flew to the Rajah's tower— 
 
 THE EXPLANATION 
 
 Love and Death once ceased their strife, 
 
 AN ANSWER 
 
 A rose, in tatters on the garden path, 
 
 -r^iE GIFT OF THE SEA 
 
 The dead child lay in the shroud, 
 
 74 
 
 77 
 
 88 
 
 90 
 
 91 
 
 92 
 
 EVARRA AND HIS GODS 
 
 Read here : This is the story of Evarra — man — , . 96 
 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Xlll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I'AGK 
 
 56 
 
 )WN' 
 
 64 
 
 THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKoHOPS 
 
 When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's 
 
 green and gold, !,>, , 
 
 IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 
 
 In the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage, . jo.t 
 
 ks 3g?in, 69 
 
 • • 
 
 74 
 
 THE LEGEND OF EVIL 
 This is the sorrowful story, 
 
 107 
 
 THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 Winds of the World, give answer? They are whim- 
 pering to and fro — , n | 
 
 77 
 
 88 
 
 90 
 
 •CLEARED' 
 
 Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt, . 117 
 
 AN IMPERIAL RESCRIPT 
 
 Now this is the tale of the Council the German Kaiser 
 decreed, 
 
 125 
 
 • • 
 
 9« 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost in his hor^-se in 
 Berkeley Square, . , , , , . 
 
 
 .zg 
 
 92 
 
 I—. . 96 
 
 1^ 
 f 
 
fi7 
 
 xiy 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Barrack-Roo^n Ballads 
 
 DANNY DEEVER 
 
 'What are the bugles blowin' for?' said Files-on- 
 Parade . . 
 
 PAGB 
 
 143 
 
 TOMMY 
 
 I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer, . 146 
 
 ' FUZZY-WUZZY ' 
 
 We've fought with many men acrost the seas, . 
 
 150 
 
 
 \ 
 
 Ml 
 
 SOLDIER, SOLDIER 
 
 * Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,' . . , 153 
 
 liCREW-GUNS 
 
 Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the 
 
 mornin' cool, 156 
 
 CELLS 
 
 I've a head like a concertina : I've a tongue like a 
 
 button-stick, 160 
 
 GUNGA DIN 
 
 You may talk o' gin and beer, 
 
 163 
 
 '!>,! 
 
 1 \ 
 
 la 
 
CONTENTS XV 
 
 PACE 
 
 OONTS ! 
 
 Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 
 
 him to perspire ? jg- 
 
 LOOT 
 
 If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the 
 
 keeper's back, |»i 
 
 •SNARLEYOW 
 
 This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corps, . 175 
 
 THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR 
 
 'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor, . .179 
 
 BELTS 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dublin 
 
 Quay, ,82 
 
 THE YOUNG BRITISH SOLDIER 
 
 When the 'arf-made recruit) goes out to the East, . 186 
 
 MANDALAY 
 
 By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the 
 
 TROOPIN' 
 
 Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea, . . 194 
 
 I' tl 
 
 i 
 
XVI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 
 THE WIDOW'S PARTY 
 
 * Where have you been this while away,' 
 
 FORD O' KABUL RIVER 
 
 Kabul town's by Kabul river — , 
 
 PAGB 
 
 197 
 
 too 
 
 GENTLEMEN- RANKERS 
 
 To the Legion of the Lost Ones to the Cohort of the 
 
 Damned, 203 
 
 ROUTE-MARCHIN' 
 
 We're marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains, . 206 
 
 v • 
 
 SHILLIN' A DAY 
 
 My name is O'Kelly, I've heard the revelly, 
 
 21U 
 
 L'ENVOI 
 
 There's a whisper down the field where the year has 
 shot her yield, 
 
 212 
 
 I 
 
PAGE 
 
 . 197 
 
 2CX} 
 
 •rt of the 
 
 . 203 
 
 plains, 
 
 206 
 
 BALLADS 
 
 210 
 
 ; year has 
 
 . 212 
 
 I: 
 
 
 A 
 
 

 1 
 
 i'/ 
 
 % 
 
ii 
 
 THE BALLAD OF EAST ANr3 WEST 
 
 O/i, East is Easfy and IVesi is West, ami iiever the 
 
 tioain shall meet, 
 Till Earth ami Sky staml presently at GoiVs great 
 
 Juilgnient Seat; 
 But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, 
 
 nor Birth, 
 IVhen tiuo strong men stand faec to face, thd' they come 
 
 from the ends of the earth / 
 
 Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border 
 
 side, 
 And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the 
 
 Colonel's pride: 
 He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the 
 
 dawn and the day, 
 And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden 
 
 her far away. 
 
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 4 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a 
 
 troop of the Guides : 
 ' Is there never a man of all my men can say where 
 
 Kamal hides? ' 
 Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of 
 
 the Ressaldar, 
 *If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know 
 
 where his pickets are. 
 *At dusk he harries the Abazai — at dawn he is into 
 
 Bonair, 
 *But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to 
 
 fare, 
 *So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can 
 
 fly, 
 
 'By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he 
 
 win to the Tongue of Jagai, 
 *But if he be passed the Tongue of Jagai, right 
 
 swiftly turn ye then, 
 *For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain 
 
 is sown with Kamal' s men. 
 'There is rock to the left, md rock to the right, and 
 
 low lean thorn between, 
 'And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a 
 
 man is seen.' 
 
II 
 
 EAST AND WEST 
 
 5 
 
 Dn that led a 
 :an say where 
 ,11, the son of 
 mist, ye know 
 .awn he is into 
 s own place to 
 
 as a bird can 
 him off ere he 
 
 of Jagai, right 
 hat grisly plain 
 |o the right, and 
 where never a 
 
 The Colonel's son has taken a horse, and a raw 
 rough dun was he, 
 
 With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell, 
 and the head of the gallows-tree. 
 
 The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him 
 stay to eat — 
 
 Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not 
 long at his meat. 
 
 He's up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he 
 can fly. 
 
 Till he was aware of his father's mare in the gut of 
 the Tongue of Jagai, 
 
 Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal 
 upon her back, 
 
 And when he could spy the white of her eye, he 
 made the pistol crack. 
 
 He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whist- 
 ling ball went wide. 
 
 'Ye shoot like a soldier,' Kamal said. 'Show now 
 if ye can ride. ' 
 
 It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust- 
 devils go. 
 
 The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like 
 a barren doe. 
 
 Hi 
 
I I I 
 
 II 
 
 i=^ . i 
 
 
 6 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 The dun he leaned against the bit and shigged his 
 
 head above, 
 But the red mare pbyed with the snaffle-bars, as a 
 
 maiden plays with a glove. 
 There was rock to the left and rock to the right, 
 
 and low lean thorn between, 
 And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho' never 
 
 a man was seen. 
 They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their 
 
 hoofs drum up the dawn. 
 The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare 
 
 like a new-roused fawn. 
 The dun he fell at a water-course — in a woful heap 
 
 fell he, 
 And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and 
 
 pulled the rider free. 
 He has knocked the pistol out of his hand — small 
 
 room was there to strive, 
 *'Twas only by favour of mine,' quoth he, 'ye rode 
 
 so long alive : 
 *There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was 
 
 not a clump of tree, 
 *But covered a man of my own men with his rifle 
 
 cocked on his knee. 
 
EAST AND WEST 
 
 ill, but the mare 
 
 his hand— small 
 uothhe, 'ye rode 
 
 mile, there was 
 
 'If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held 
 
 it low, 
 *The little jackals that flee so fast, wer» feasting all 
 
 in a row : 
 *If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have 
 
 held it high, 
 *The kite that whistles above us now were gorged 
 
 till she could not fly.' 
 Lightly answered the Colonel's son: — *Do good to 
 
 bird and beast, 
 'But count who come for the broken meats before 
 
 thou makest a feast. 
 'If there should follow a thousand swords to carry 
 
 my bones away, 
 'Belike the price of a jackal's meal were more than 
 
 a thief could pay. 
 'They will feed their horse on the standing crop, 
 
 their men on the garnered grain, 
 'The thatch of the byres will serve their firos when 
 
 ; 11 the cattle are slain. 
 'But if thou thinkest the price be fair, — thy 
 
 brethren wait to sup, 
 'The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn, — howl, dog, 
 
 and call them up 1 
 
 l' I 
 
 f 
 
.1 I 
 
 
 ! I 
 
 !■■ ' 
 
 i : 
 
 8 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 *And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer 
 
 and gear and stack, 
 'Give me my father's mare again, and I'll fight my 
 
 own way back ! ' 
 Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him 
 
 upon his feet. 
 'No talk shall be of dogs,' said he, 'when wolf and 
 
 grey wolf meet. 
 'May I eat dirt il thou hast hurt of me in deed or 
 
 breath j 
 'What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at 
 
 the dawn with Death ? ' 
 Lightly answered the Colonel's son: 'I hold by the 
 
 blood of my clan : 
 'Take up the mare for my father's gift — by God, she 
 
 has carried a man ! * 
 The red mare ran io the Colonel's son, and nuzzled 
 
 against his breast, 
 'We be two strong men,' said Kamal then, 'but she 
 
 loveth the younger best. 
 'So she shall go with a lifter's dower, my turquoise- 
 studded rein, 
 'My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver 
 
 stirrups twain.* 
 
gh, in steer 
 I'll fight my 
 and set him 
 /hen wolf and 
 le in deed or 
 3rth to jest at 
 •I hold by the 
 t__by God, she 
 
 Dn, 
 
 and nuzzled 
 
 tl then, 'but she 
 my turquoise- 
 loth, and silver 
 
 EAST AND WEST 
 
 9 
 
 The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it muzzle- 
 end, 
 'Ye have taken the one from a foe,' said he; 'will 
 
 ye take the mate from a friend? ' 
 •A gift for a gift,' said Kamal straight; *a limb for 
 
 the risk of a limb. 
 *Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my 
 
 son to him ! * 
 With that he whistled his only son, that dropped 
 
 from a mountain-crest — 
 He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he 
 
 looked like a lance in rest. 
 'Now here is thy master,' Kamal said, 'who leads a 
 
 troop of the Guides, 
 'And thou must ride at his left side as shield on 
 
 shoulder rides. 
 'Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and 
 
 board and bed, 
 'Thy life is his — thy fate it is to guard him with 
 
 thy head. 
 'So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all 
 
 her foes are thine, 
 'And thou must harry thy father's hold for the 
 
 peace of the Border-line, 
 
 i;.. 
 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 ,.1 
 
 i 
 
uiai^Bam 
 
 10 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 'And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy 
 
 way to power — 
 *Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am 
 
 hanged in Peshawur.' 
 
 They have looked each other between the eyes, and 
 
 there they found no fault, 
 They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood 
 
 on leavened bread and salt : 
 They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood 
 
 on fire and fresh-cut sod, 
 On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and 
 
 the Wondrous Names of God. 
 The Colonel . j he rides the mare and Kamal's 
 
 boy the tiuii, 
 And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where 
 
 there went forth but one. 
 And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, fiill 
 
 twenty swords flew clear — 
 There was not a man but carried his feud with the 
 
 blood of the mountaineer. 
 *Ha' done! ha' done!' said the Colonel's son. 
 
 *Put up the steel at your sides! 
 
 Ipi 
 
and hack thy 
 ar when I am 
 
 1 the eyes, and 
 •other-in-Blood 
 rother-in-Blood 
 yber knife, and 
 re and Kamal's 
 t Bukloh where 
 irter-Guard, h\\\ 
 lis feud with the 
 
 EAST AND WEST 
 
 11 
 
 'Last night ye had struck at a Border thief— to- 
 night 'tis a man of the Guides! ' 
 
 O/i, East is East, and West is West, and never the two 
 
 shall meet. 
 Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great 
 
 Judgment Seat; 
 
 But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, 
 
 nor Birth, 
 When tivo strong men stand face to face, tho' they come 
 
 from the ends of the earth. 
 
 \ 
 
 w 
 
 ' I 
 
 I Colonel's son. 
 
'f"w^ 
 
 ■• 
 
 I 
 
 ru 
 
 THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 Not many years ago a King cited in one of the Rajpoot 
 States. His wives, disregarding the orders of the English 
 against suttee, wonld have broken out of the palace had 
 not the gates been barred. But one of them, disguised as 
 the King^s favourite dancing-^irl, passed through the line 
 of guards and reached the pyre. There, her courage fa U- 
 ing, she prayed her cousin, a baron of the court, to kill 
 her. This he did, not knowing who she was. 
 
 Udai Chand lay sick to death 
 
 In his hold by Gungra hill. 
 All night we heard the death-gongs ring 
 For the soul of the dying Rajpoot King, 
 All night beat up from the women's wing 
 
 A cry that we could not still. 
 
 All night the barons came and went, 
 
 The lords of the outer guard : 
 All night the cressets glimmered pale 
 On Ulwar sabre and Tcnk jezail, 
 Mewar headstall and Marwar mail, 
 That clinked in the palace yard„ 
 12 
 
THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 13 
 
 7/ the Rajpoot 
 of the English 
 the palace had 
 n, disguised as 
 hrough the line 
 er courage fa'l- 
 he court, to kill 
 zs. 
 
 In the Golden room on the palace roof 
 
 All night he fought for air: 
 And there was sobbing behind the screen, 
 Rustle and whisper of women unseen, 
 And the hungry eyes of the Boondi (^ueen 
 
 On the death she might not share. 
 
 He passed at dawn — the death-fire leaped 
 
 From ridge to river-head^ 
 From the Malwa plains to the Abu scaurs: 
 And wail upon wail went up to the stars 
 Behind the grim zenana-bars. 
 
 When they knew that the King was dead. 
 
 it. 
 
 
 ys ring 
 t King, 
 n' swing 
 
 ent, 
 
 Id: 
 pale 
 
 111, 
 yardo 
 
 The dumb priest knelt to tie his mouth 
 
 And robe him for the pyre. 
 The Boondi Queen beneath us cried : 
 'See, now, that we die as our mothers died 
 *In the bridal-bed by our master's side! 
 
 'Out, women! — to the fire! ' 
 
 We drove the great gates home apace 
 White hands were on the sill : 
 
 ,'-^'i 
 
 ' 
 
 ill 
 
'f 
 
 II 
 
 Iff 
 
 , ! 
 
 14 THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 But ere the rush of the unseen feet 
 Had reached the turn to the open street, 
 The bars shot down, the guard-drum beat— 
 We held the dove-cot still. 
 
 A face looked down in the gathering day, 
 And laughing spoke from the wall : 
 
 'Oh^, they mourn here: let me by — 
 
 *Azizun, the Lucknow nautch-girl, I? 
 
 'When the house is rotten, the rats must fly, 
 'And I seek another thrall. 
 
 'For I ruled the King as ne'er did Queen, — 
 
 'To-night the Queens rule me ! 
 'Guard them safely, but let me go, 
 'Or ever they pay the debt they owe 
 'In scourge and torture ! ' She leaped below, 
 And the grim guard watched her flee. 
 
 They knew that the King had spent his soul 
 
 On a North-bred dancing-girl : 
 That he prayed to a flat-nosed Lucknow god, 
 And kissed the ground where her feet had trod, 
 And doomed to death at her drunken nod 
 And swore by her lightest curl. 
 
THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 15 
 
 treet, 
 n beat- 
 
 ng day, 
 wall : 
 
 We bore the King to his fathers' place, 
 
 Where the tombs of the Sun-born stand : 
 
 Where the grey apes swing, and the peacocks preen 
 
 On fretted pillar and jewelled screen, 
 
 And the wild boar couch in the house oi the 
 Queen 
 On the drift of the desert sand. 
 
 i.b 
 
 , I? 
 
 ;s must fly. 
 
 d Queen, — 
 lel 
 
 .0, 
 
 owe 
 
 Leaped below, 
 
 d her flee. 
 
 Dent his soul 
 
 ill: 
 
 ^ucknow god, 
 Her feet had trod, 
 unken nod 
 curl. 
 
 The herald read his titles forth, 
 
 We set the logs aglow : 
 'Friend of the English, free from fear, 
 * Baron of Luni to Jeysulmeer, 
 'Lord of the Desert of Bikaneer, 
 
 'King of the Jungle, — go ! ' 
 
 All night the red flame stabbed the sky 
 With wavering wind-tossed spears: 
 And out of a shattered temple crept 
 A woman who veiled her head and wept. 
 And called on the King — but the great King slept, 
 And turned not for her tears. 
 
 Small thought had he to mark the strife — 
 Cold fear with hot desire — 
 
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 16 
 
 THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 When thrice she leaped from the leaping flame, 
 And thrice she beat her breast for shame, 
 And thrice like a wounded dove she came 
 And moaned about the fire. 
 
 One watched, a bow-shot from the blaze, 
 
 The silent streets between, 
 Who had stood by the King in sjDort and fray, 
 To blade in ambush or boar at bay, 
 And he was a baron old and grey, 
 
 And kin to the Boondi Queen. 
 
 He said: *0 shameless, put aside 
 
 *The veil upon thy brow ! 
 *Who held the King and all his land 
 *To the wanton will of a harlot's hand! 
 'Will the white ash rise from the blistered brand? 
 
 * Stoop down, and call him now ! ' 
 
 Then she : 'By the faith of my tarnished soul, 
 
 'All things I did not well 
 *I had hoped to clear ere the fire died, 
 'And lay me down by my master's side 
 *To rule in Heaven his only bride, 
 
 *While the others howl in Hell. 
 
::t 
 
 flame, 
 
 
 THE LAST SUTTEE 
 
 *But I have felt the fire's breath, 
 
 *And hard it is to die ! 
 *Yet if I may pray a Rajpoot lord 
 *To sully the steel of a Thakur's sword 
 *With base-born blood of a trade abhorred, '- 
 
 And the Thakur answered, 'Ay.' 
 
 17 
 
 d fray, 
 
 He drew and struck : the straight blade drank 
 
 The life beneath the breast. 
 *I had looked for the Queen, to face the flame, 
 'But the harlot dies for the Rajpoot dame — 
 'Sister of mine, pass, free from shame. 
 
 'Pass with thy King to rest! ' 
 
 ;red brand? 
 
 led soul, 
 
 The black log crashed above the white: 
 
 The little flames and lean, 
 Red as slaughter and blue as steel. 
 That whistled and fluttered from head to heel, 
 Leaped up anew, for they found their meal 
 
 On the heart of — the Boondi Queen i 
 
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 ■?l!!'^'fV"':il'!»' *.'l»"'*iiJt!- '. 
 
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 I ^ 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S MERCY 
 
 Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief , of him is the 
 
 story told. 
 His mercy fills the Khyber uills — his grace in 
 
 manifold; 
 He has taken toll of the North and the South — hii 
 
 glrry re ache th far, 
 And they tell the tale of his charity from Balkh to 
 
 Kandahar. 
 
 Before the old Peshawur Gate, where Kurd and 
 
 Kaffir meet, 
 The Governor of Kabul dealt the Justice of the 
 
 Street, 
 And that was strait as running noose and swift as 
 
 plunging knife, 
 Tho' he who held the longer purse might hold the 
 
 longer life. 
 18 
 
'M\ 
 
 THE KING'S MERCY 
 
 19 
 
 There was a hound of Hindustan had struck a 
 
 Euzufzai, 
 Wherefore they spat upon his face and led him out 
 
 to die. 
 It chanced the King went forth that hour when 
 
 throat was bared to knife; 
 The Kaiifir grovelled under-hoof and clamoured for 
 
 his life. 
 
 Then said the King: 'Have hope, O friend! Yea, 
 
 Death disgraced is hard; 
 'Much honour shall be thine ' ; and called the Captain 
 
 of the Guard, 
 Yar Khan, a bastard of the Blood, so city-babble 
 
 saith, 
 And he was honoured of the King — the which is 
 
 salt to Death; 
 And he was son of Daoud Shah the Reiver of the 
 
 Plains, 
 And blood of old Durani Lords ran fire in his 
 
 veins; 
 
 And 'twas to tame an Afghan pride nor Hell nor 
 
 Heaven could bind. 
 The King would make him butcher to a yelping cur 
 
 of Hind. 
 
 
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 20 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 'Strike! said the King. 'King's blood art thou — 
 
 his death shall be his pride ! ' 
 Then louder, that the crowd might catch: 'Fear 
 
 not — his arms are tied ! ' 
 Yar Khan drew clear the Khyber knife, and struck, 
 
 and sheathed again. 
 *0 man, thy will is done,' quoth he; 'A King this 
 
 dog hath slain.' 
 
 Abdhur Rahman, the Diirani Chief, to the North 
 
 and the South is sold. 
 The North and the South shall open their mouth to 
 
 a Ghilzai flag unrolled, 
 When the big guns speak to the Khyber peak, and 
 
 his dog-Heratis fly. 
 Ye have heard the song — How long? How long'/ 
 
 Wolves of the Abazai/ 
 
 That night before the watch was set, when all the 
 
 streets were clear. 
 The Governor of Kabul spoke: 'My King, hast thou 
 
 no fear? 
 *Thou knowest — thou hast heard, ' — his speech died 
 
 at his master's face. 
 
THE KING'S MERCY 
 
 21 
 
 irt thou- 
 gh: 'Fear 
 and struck, 
 . King this 
 
 And grimly said the Afghan King: *I rule the 
 
 Afghan race. 
 'My path is mine — see thou to thine — to-night upon 
 
 thy bed 
 'Think A^ho there be in Kabul now that clamour for 
 
 thy head. ' 
 
 to the North 
 %eir mouth to 
 ber peak, and 
 How Ions f 
 
 when all the 
 |.ing, hast thou 
 is speech died 
 
 That night when all the gates were shut to City and 
 
 to Throne, 
 Within a little garden-house the King lay down 
 
 alone. 
 Before tho sinking of the moon, which is the Night 
 
 of Night, 
 Yar Khan came softly to the King to make his 
 
 honour white. 
 The children of the town had mocked beneath his 
 
 horse's hoofs, 
 The harlots of the town had hailed him 'butcher!' 
 
 from their roofs. 
 But as he groped against the wall, two hands upon 
 
 him fell. 
 The King behind his shoulder spoke: 'Dead man, 
 
 thou dost not well 1 
 
 
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 111 
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 22 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 "Tis ill to jest with Kings by day and seek a boon 
 
 by night; 
 'And that thou bearest in thy hand is all too sharp 
 
 to write. 
 'But three days hence, if God be good, and if thy 
 
 strength remain, 
 *Thou shalt demand one boon of me and bless me 
 
 in thy pain. 
 'For I am merciful to all, and most of all to thee. 
 *My butcher of the shambles, rest — no knife hast 
 
 thou for me ! * 
 
 Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chiefs holds hard by 
 
 the South and the North; 
 But the Ghilzai knows, ere the melting snows, when 
 
 the swollen banks break forth, 
 IVhen the red-coats crawl to the sungar wall, and 
 
 his Usbeg lances fail. 
 Ye have heard the song — IIo70 long? How long? 
 
 Wolves of the Zuka Kheyl! 
 
 They stoned him in the rubbish-field when dawn 
 
 was in the sky, 
 According to the written word, 'See that he do not 
 
 die.' 
 
THE KING'S MERCY 
 
 23 
 
 jek a boon 
 
 1 too sharp 
 
 , and if thy 
 
 ad bless me 
 
 il to thee. 
 tO knife hast 
 
 holds hard by 
 \g snows, when 
 igar wall, and 
 f How long? 
 
 Id when dawn 
 that he do not 
 
 They stoned him till the stonej were piled above 
 
 him on the plain, 
 And those the labouring limbs displaced they 
 
 tumbled back again. 
 
 One watched beside the dreary mound that veiled 
 
 the battered thing, 
 And him the King with laughter called the Herald 
 
 of the King. 
 
 It was upon the second night, the night of Ramazan, 
 The watcher leaning earthward heard the message 
 
 of Yar Khan. 
 From shattered breast through shrivelled lips broke 
 
 forth the rattling breath : 
 'Creature of God, deliver me frc m agony of Death.' 
 
 They bright the King among his girls, and risked 
 
 their lives thereby : 
 'Protector of the Pitiful, give orders that he die ! ' 
 
 "Bid him endure until the day,' a lagging answer 
 
 came; 
 'The night is sliort, and he can pray and learn to 
 
 bless my r-ane.* 
 
 
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 24 
 
 THE KING'S MERCY 
 
 Before the dawn three times he spoke, and on the 
 
 day once more : 
 'Creature of God, deliver me and bless the King 
 
 therefore ! ' 
 
 They shot him at the morning prayer, to ease him 
 
 of his pain, 
 And when he heard the matchlocks clink, he blessed 
 
 the King again. 
 
 Which thing the singers made a song for all the 
 
 world to sing, 
 So that the Outer Seas may know the mercy of the 
 
 King. 
 
 Abdhur Rahman, the Diirani Chief, of him is the 
 
 story told. 
 He has opened his mouth to the North and the 
 
 South, they have stuffed his mouth with gold. 
 Ye know the truth of his tender ruth — and sweet 
 
 his favours are. 
 Ye have heard the so?7g — How long? How long? 
 
 from Balkh to Kandahar. 
 
 W- 
 
1^ 
 
 A on the 
 the King 
 
 ease him 
 he blessed 
 
 for all the 
 srcy of the 
 
 / him is the 
 
 rth and the 
 'h with gold. 
 I — and sweet 
 
 How long? 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S JEST 
 
 When spring-time fli hes the desert grass, 
 
 Our kafilas wind through the Khyber Pass. 
 
 Lean are the camels but fat the frails, 
 
 Light are the purses but heavy the bales. 
 
 As the snowbound trade of the North comes down 
 
 To the market-square of Peshawur town. 
 
 In a turquoise twilight, crisp and chill, 
 A kafila camped at the foot of the hill. 
 Then blue smoke-haze of the cooking rose, 
 And tentpeg answered to hammer-nose; 
 And the picketed ponies shag and wild, 
 Strained at their ropes as the feed was piled; 
 And the bubbling camels beside the load 
 Sprawled for a furlong adown the road; 
 And the Persian pussy-cats, brought for sale. 
 Spat at the dogs from the camel-bale ; 
 And the tribesmen bellowed to hasten the food; 
 
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 26 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 And the camp-fires twinkled by Fort Jnmrood; 
 And there fled on the wings of the gathering dusk 
 A savour of camels and car and musk, 
 A murmur of voices, a rt ,; oi smoke. 
 To tell us the trade of the Khyber woke. 
 
 The lid of the flesh-pot chattered high, 
 
 The knives were whetted and — then came I 
 
 To Mahbub Ali, the muleteer, 
 
 Patching his bridles and counting his gear, 
 
 Crammed with the gossip of half a year. 
 
 But Mahbub Ali the kindly said, 
 
 'Better is speech when the belly is fed.' 
 
 So we plunged the hand to the mid-wrist deep 
 
 In a cinnamon stew of the fat-tailed sheep. 
 
 And he who never hath tasted the food, 
 
 By Allah ! he knoweth not bad from good. 
 
 We cleansed our beards of the mutton-grejise. 
 We lay on the mats and were filled with peace. 
 And the talk slid north, and the talk sli<:l south. 
 With the sliding puffs from the hookah- mouth. 
 Four things greater than all things are, — 
 Women and Horses and Power and War. 
 We spake of them all, but the last the most, 
 
THE KING'S JEST 
 
 27 
 
 rood; 
 ing dusk 
 
 ne 1 
 
 ;ear, 
 
 r. 
 
 :ist deep 
 heep, 
 
 d, 
 Tood. 
 
 -grease, 
 th peace, 
 lid south, 
 ih- mouth. 
 
 e,— 
 iW'ar. 
 
 e most, 
 
 For I sought a word of a Russian post. 
 
 Of a shifty promise, an unsheathed sword 
 
 And a grey-coat guard on the Hehiumd ford. 
 
 Then Mahbub Ali lowered his eyes 
 
 In the fashion of one who is weaving lies. 
 
 Quoth he : * Of the Russians who can say ? 
 
 'When the night is gathering all is grey. 
 
 'But we look that the gloom of the night shall die 
 
 'In the morning flush of a blood-red sky. 
 
 'Friend of my heart, is it meet or wise 
 
 'To warn a King of his enemies? 
 
 'We know what Heaven or Hell may bring, 
 
 'But no man knoweth the mind of the King. 
 
 'That unsought counsel is cursed of God 
 
 'Attesteth the story of Wali Dad. 
 
 • His sire was leaky of tongue and pen, 
 
 • His dam was a clucking Khuttuck hen ; 
 
 ' And the colt bred close to the vice of each, 
 
 ' For he carried the curse of an unstaunched speech. 
 
 • Therewith madness — so that he sought 
 'The favour of kings at the Kabul court ; 
 
 And travelled, in hope of honour, far 
 'Td the Hne where the grey-coat squadrons are. 
 ' There have I journeyed too — but I 
 
 
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 28 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 'Saw naught, said naught, and — did not die! 
 
 *He hearked to rumour, and snatched at a breath 
 
 'Of "this one knoweth" and "that one saith," — 
 
 'Legends that ran from mouth to mouth 
 
 'Of a grey-coat coming, and sack of the South- 
 
 'These have I also heard — they pass 
 
 'With each new spring and the winter grass. 
 
 'Hot-foot southward, forgotten of God, 
 
 'Back to the city ran Wali Dad, 
 
 'Even to Kabul — in full durbar 
 
 'The King held talk with his Chief in War. 
 
 'Into the press of the crowd he broke, 
 
 'And what he had heard of the coming spoke. 
 
 'Then Gholam Hyder, the Red Chief, smiled, 
 
 'As a mother might on a babbling child; 
 
 'But those who would laugh restrained their breath, 
 
 'When the face of the King showed dark as death. 
 
 'Evil it is in full durbar 
 
 'To cry to a ruler of gathering war! 
 
 'Slowly he led to a peach-tree small, 
 
 'That grew by a cleft of the city wall. 
 
 'And he said to the boy: "They shall praise thy zeal 
 
 '"So long as the red spurt follows the steel. 
 
 1^) 
 
 ■i\. 
 
iie! 
 
 a breath 
 
 saith," — 
 South. 
 :rass. 
 
 War. 
 r spoke. 
 
 smiled, 
 
 id; 
 their breath, 
 
 ark as death. 
 
 praise thy zeal 
 steel. 
 
 THE KING'S JEST 39 
 
 '"And the Russ is upon us even now? 
 
 '"Great is thy prudence — await them, thou. 
 
 * " Watch from the tree. Thou art young and strong, 
 
 *" Surely thy vigil is not for long. 
 
 *"The Russ is upon us, thy clamour ran? 
 
 *"Surelv an hour shall bring their van. 
 
 '"Wait and watch. When the host is near, 
 
 '"Shout aloud that my men may hear." 
 
 'Friend of my heart, is it meet or wise 
 
 'To warn a King of his enemies? 
 
 'A guard was set that he might not flee — 
 
 'A score of bayonets ringed the tree. 
 
 'The peach-bloom fell in showers of snow, 
 
 'When he shook at his death as he looked below. 
 
 'By the power of God, who alone is great, 
 
 'Till the seventh day he fought with his fate. 
 
 'Then madness took him, and men declare 
 
 'He mowed in the branches as ape and bear, 
 
 'And last as a sloth, ere his body failed, 
 
 'And he hung as a bat in the forks, and wailed, 
 
 'And sleep the cord of his hands untied, 
 
 'And he fell, and was caught on the points and died. 
 
 'Heart of my heart, is it meet or wise 
 'To warn a King of his enemies? 
 
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 80 
 
 THE KING'S JEST 
 
 *We know what Heaven or Hell may bring, 
 *But no man knoweth the mind of the King. 
 'Of the grey-coat coming who can say? 
 'When the night is gathering all is grey. 
 'Two things greater than all things are, 
 'The first is Love, and the second War. 
 'And since we know not how War may prove, 
 'Heart of my heart, let us talk of Love ! ' 
 
 ;^L__-. 
 
WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 Ul\ 
 
 Hi 
 
 More ifian a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought 
 neaf Delhi, an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after the day 
 •was lost with a beggar-girl, who had loved him and followed 
 him in all his camps, on his saddle-bow. He lost the girl 
 when almost within sight of safety. A Maratta trooper 
 tells the story : — 
 
 hi 
 
 ! . ! 
 
 The wreath of banquet overnight lay withered on 
 the neck, 
 Our hands and scarves were saffron-dyed for signal 
 of despair, 
 When we went forth to Paniput to battle with the 
 Mlech, — 
 Ere we came back from Paniput and left a king- 
 dom there. 
 
 I, 
 
 U 
 
 Thrice thirty-thousand men were we to force the 
 Jumna fords — 
 The hawk- winged horse of Damajee, mailed 
 squadrons of the Bhao, 
 
 Copyright, 189a, l>y Macmillan & Co. 31 
 
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 32 
 
 WITH SCINUIA TO DELHI 
 
 Stark levies of the southern hills, the Deccan's 
 sharpest swords, 
 And he the harlot's traitor son the goatherd 
 Mulhar Rao 1 
 
 
 III ' 
 
 I I 
 
 I 
 
 Thrice thirty- thousand men were we before the mists 
 had cleared, 
 The low white mists of morning heard the war- 
 conch scream and bray; 
 We called upon Bhowani and we gripped them by 
 the beard, 
 We rolled upon them like a flood and washed their 
 ranks away. 
 
 The children of the hills of Khost before our lances 
 ran, 
 We drove the black Rohillas back as cattle to the 
 pen; 
 'Twas then we needed Mulhar Rao to end what we 
 began, 
 A thousand men had saved the charge; he fled 
 the field with ten 1 
 
WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 m 
 
 e Deccan's 
 le goatherd 
 
 ore the mists 
 jard the war- 
 )ped them by 
 d washed their 
 
 ;fore our lances 
 ,s cattle to the 
 
 |o end what we 
 •harge-, he fled 
 
 There was no room to clear a sword — no power to 
 strike a blow, 
 For foot to foot, ay, breast to breast, the battle 
 held us fast — 
 Save where the naked hill men ran and stabbing 
 from below 
 Brought down the horse and rider and we trampled 
 them and passed. 
 
 To left the roar of musketry rang like a falling 
 flood- 
 To right the sunshine rippled red from redder 
 lance and blade — 
 Above the dark Upsaras ^ flew, beneath us plashed the 
 blood. 
 And, bellying black against the dust, the Bhagwa 
 Jhanda swayed. 
 
 I saw it fall in smoke and fire, the banner of the 
 Bhao; 
 T heard a voice across the press of one who called 
 in vain : — 
 
 1 The Choosers of the Slain. 
 C 
 
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pit* 
 
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 84 
 
 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 'Ho! Anand Rao Nimbalkhur ride! Get aid of 
 Mulhar Rao ! 
 *Go shame his squadrons into fight — the Bhao — 
 the Bhao is slain ! ' 
 
 Thereat, as when a sand-bar breaks in clotted sjiume 
 and spray — 
 When rain of later autumn sweeps the Jumna 
 water-head, 
 Before their charge from flank to flank our riven 
 ranks gave way; 
 But of the waters of that flood the Jumna fords 
 ran red. 
 
 I held by Scindia, my lord, as close as man might 
 holdj 
 A Soobah of the Deccan asks no aid to guard his 
 life; 
 But Holkar's Horse were flying, and our chief est 
 chiefs were cold. 
 And like a flame among us leapt the long lean 
 Northern knife. 
 
WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 86 
 
 3ur riven 
 
 I held by Scindia — my lance from butt to tuft was 
 dyed, 
 The froth of battle bossed the shield and roped 
 the bridle-chain — 
 What time beneath our horses' feet a maiden rose 
 and cried, 
 And clung to Scindia, and I turned a sword-cut 
 from the twain. 
 
 (He set a spell upon the maid in woodlands 
 long ago, 
 A hunter by the Tapti banks she gave him water 
 there : 
 He turned her heart to water, and she followed to 
 her woe. 
 What need had he of Lalun who had twenty maids 
 as fair?) 
 
 Now in that hour strength left my lord; he wrenched 
 his mare aside; 
 He bound the girl behind him and we slashed and 
 struggled free. 
 
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AHlaMaifiiiMii^iiBiMMi 
 
 Si'.i:a«a*w«»./«j« 
 
 36 
 
 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 Across the reeling wreck of strife we rode as shadows 
 ride 
 From PaniDut to Delhi town, but not alone 
 were we. 
 
 'Twas Lutuf-Ullah Populzai laid horse upon our 
 track, 
 A swine-fed reiver of the North that lusted for the 
 maid ; 
 I might have barred his path awhile, but Scindia 
 called me back, 
 And I — Oh woe for Scindia! — I listened and 
 obeyed. 
 
 League after league the formless scrub took shape 
 and glided by — 
 League after league the white road swirled behind 
 the white mare's feet — 
 League after league, when leagues were done, we 
 heard the Populzai, 
 Where sure as Time and swift as Death the tireless 
 footfall beat. 
 
WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 37 
 
 shadows 
 ot alone 
 
 upon our 
 :ed for the 
 ut Scindia 
 itened and 
 
 Itook shape 
 ked behind 
 
 Noon's eye beheld that shame of flight, the shadows 
 fell, we fled 
 Where steadfast as the wheeling kite he followed 
 in our train; 
 The black wolf warred where we had warred, the 
 jackal mocked our dead. 
 And terror born of twilight tide made mad the 
 labouring brain. 
 
 I gasped: — *A kingdom waits my lord; her love is 
 but her own. 
 *A day shall mar, a day shall cure for her, but what 
 for thee? 
 •Cut loose the girl: he follows fast. Cut loose and 
 ride alone ! ' 
 Then Scindia 'twixt his blistered lips: — *My 
 Queens' Queen shall she be ! 
 
 h 
 II, : 
 
 I. ... , I 
 
 s'' i 
 
 (I * 
 
 ■H 
 
 done, we 
 the tireless 
 
 *Of all who ear my bread last night 'twas she alone 
 that came 
 'To seek her love between the spears and find her 
 crown therein ! 
 
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 li 
 
 88 
 
 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 'One shame is mine to-day, what need the weight of 
 double shame? 
 *If once we reach the Delhi gate, though all be 
 lost, I win ! ' 
 
 We rode — the white mare failed — her trot a stagger- 
 ing stumble grew, — 
 The cooking-smoke of even rose and weltered 
 and hung low; 
 And still we heard the Populzai and still we strained 
 anew. 
 And Delhi town was very near, but nearer was 
 the foe. 
 
 Yea, Delhi town was very near when Lalun whispered : 
 —'Slay! 
 *Lord of my life, the mare sinks fast — stab deep 
 and let me die ! ' 
 But Scindia would not, and the maid tore free and 
 flung away. 
 And turning as she fell we heard the clattering 
 Populzai. 
 
WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 
 
 39 
 
 3 weight oi 
 )ugh all be 
 
 )t a stagger- 
 tnd weltered 
 11 we strained 
 It nearer was 
 
 lun whispered : 
 ;ast— stab deep 
 tore free and 
 the clattering 
 
 Then Scindia checked the gasping mare that rocked 
 and groaned for breath, 
 And wheeled to charge and plunged the knife a 
 hands-breadth in her side — 
 The hunter and the hunted know how that last pause 
 is death — 
 The blood had chilled about her heart, she reared 
 and fell and died. 
 
 Our Gods were kind. Before he heard the maiden's 
 piteous scream 
 A log upon the Delhi road, beneath the mare he 
 lay — 
 Lost mistress and lost battle passed before him like 
 a dream ; 
 The darkness closed about his eyes — I bore my 
 King away. 
 
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 THE BALLAD OF BOH DA THONE 
 
 This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone, 
 Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne, 
 Who harried the district of Alalotie : 
 How he met with his fate and the V.P.P. 
 At the hand of Harendra Mukerji, 
 Senior Gomashta, G.B.T. 
 
 Boh Da Thone was a warrior bold, , 
 
 His sword and his Snider were bossed with gold. 
 
 And the Peacock Banner his henchmen bore 
 Was stiff with bullion but stiffer with gore. 
 
 He shot at the strong and he slashed at the weak 
 From the Sahveen scrub to the Chindvvin teak : 
 
 He crucified noble, he sacrificed mean, 
 He filled old women with kerosene : 
 
 While over the water the papers cried, 
 'The patriot fights for his countryside! ' 
 40 
 
ONE 
 
 7ie, 
 V.P.P. 
 
 Lth gold. 
 
 lore 
 e. 
 
 [he weak 
 teak : 
 
 BOH DA THONE 41 
 
 But little they cared for the Native Press, 
 The worn white soldiers in Khaki dress, 
 
 Who tramped through the jungle and camped in 
 
 the byre, 
 Who died in the swamp and were tombed in the 
 
 mire. 
 
 Who gave up their lives, at the Queen's Command, 
 For the Pride of their Race and the Peace of the 
 Land. 
 
 Now, first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone 
 Was Captain O' Neil of the 'Black Tyrone,' 
 
 And his was a Company, seventy strong. 
 Who hustled that dissolute Chief along. 
 
 There were lads from Galway and Louth and 
 
 Meath 
 Who went to their death with a joke in their teeth, 
 
 And worshipped with fluency, fervour, and zeal 
 The mud on the boot-heels of 'Crook ' O'Neil. 
 
 But ever a blight on their labours lay. 
 And ever their quarry would vanish away, 
 
 J 
 
 1 5 'I 
 
 ;; i 
 
 ii 
 
 . 11 
 
 Bi 
 
 i 
 
 h 
 
 11 ". 
 
 '-}. ! 
 
 MM 
 
 
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Hi 
 
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 \M 
 
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 42 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 Till the sun-dried boys of the Black Tyrone 
 Took a brotherly interest in Boh Da Ihone : 
 
 And, sooth, if pursuit in possession ends, 
 7'he Boh and his trackers were best of friends. 
 
 The word of a scout — a march by night — 
 A rush through the mist — a scattering fight — 
 
 A volley from cover — a corpse in the clearing — 
 The glimpse of a loin-cloth and heavy jade earring — 
 
 The flare of a village — the tally of slain — 
 
 And . . . the Boh was abroad 'on the raid * again! 
 
 They cursed their luck as the Irish will, 
 They gave him credit for cunning and skill, 
 
 They buried their dead, they bolted their beef, 
 And started anew on the track of the thief 
 
 Till, in place of the 'Kalends of Greece,' men said, 
 'When Crook and x»id darlings come back with 
 the head.* 
 
 They had hunted the Boh from the Hills to the 
 
 plain — 
 He doubled and broke for the hills again: 
 
?! 
 
 BOH DA THONE 4U 
 
 They had crippled his power for rapine and raid, 
 They had routed him out of his pet stockade, 
 
 And at last, they came, when the Day Star tired, 
 To a camp deserted — a village fired. 
 
 A black cross blistered the Morning-gold, 
 And the body upon it was stark and cold. 
 
 The wind of the dawn went merrily past. 
 The high grass bowed her plumes to the blast. 
 
 And out of the grass, on a sudden, broke 
 A spirtle of fire, a whorl of smoke — 
 
 And Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone 
 Was blessed with a slug in the ulna-bone — 
 The gift of his enemy Boh Da Thone. 
 
 (Now a slug that is hammered from telegraph-wire 
 Is a thorn in the flesh and a rankling fire.) 
 
 The shot-wound festered — as shot-wounds may 
 In a steaming barrack at Mandalay. 
 
 The left arm throbbed, and the Captain swore, 
 'I'd like to be after the Boh once more ! ' 
 
 
 
 |V 
 
 'i' 
 
 ll 
 
 n 
 
 U i 
 
 iJ 
 
44 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 ' i 
 
 w ' 
 
 The fever held him — the Captain said, 
 'I'd give a hundred to look at his head! ' 
 
 The Hospital punkahs creaked and whirred, 
 But Babu Harendra (Gomashta) heard. 
 
 He thought of the cane-brake, green and dank, 
 That girdled his home by the Dacca tank. 
 
 He thought of his wife and his High School son. 
 He thought — but abandoned the thought — of a gun. 
 
 His sleep was broken by visions dread 
 Of a shining Boh with a silver head. 
 
 He kept his counsel and went his way. 
 And swindled the cartmen of half their pay. 
 
 H 
 
 4i 
 
 And the months went on, as the worst must do, 
 And the Boh returned to the raid anew. 
 
 But the Captain had quitted the long-drawn strife, 
 And in far iSimoorie had taken a wife. 
 
 And she was a damsel of delicate mould. 
 With hair like the sunshine and heart of gold, 
 
BOH DA THONE 
 
 And little she knew the arms that embraced 
 Had cloven a man from the brow to the waist: 
 
 And little she knew that the loving lips 
 Had ordered a quivering life's eclipse, 
 
 xA.nd the eye that lit at her lightest breath 
 Had glared unawed in the Gates of Death. 
 
 (For these be matters a man would hide, 
 As a general rule, from an innocent r>ride.) 
 
 And little the Captain thought of the past, 
 And, of all men, Babu Harendra last. 
 
 45 
 
 , t 
 
 But slow, in the sludge of the Kathun road, 
 The Government Bullock Train toted its load. 
 
 Speckless and spotless and shining with ghee, 
 In the rearmost cart sat the Babu-jee. 
 
 And ever a phantom before him fled 
 Of a scowling Boh with a silver head. 
 
 Then the lead-cart stuck, though the coolies slaved, 
 And the cartmen flogged and the escort raved; 
 
46 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 I 
 
 And out of the jungle, with yells and squeals, 
 Pranced Boh Da Thone, and his gang at his heels! 
 
 Then belching blunderbuss answered back 
 The Snider's snarl and the carbine's crack, 
 
 And the blithe revolver began to sing 
 
 To the blade that twanged on the locking-ring, 
 
 And the brown flesh blued where the bay' net 
 
 kissed. 
 As the steel shot back with a wrench and a twist, 
 
 And the great white bullocks with onyx eyes 
 Watched the souls of the dead arise. 
 
 And over the smoke of the fusillade 
 
 The Peacock Banner staggered and swayed. 
 
 Oh, gayest of scrimmages man may see 
 Is a well-worked rush on the G.B.T. ! 
 
 The Babu shook at the horrible sight, 
 And girded his ponderous loins for flight, 
 
 But Fate had ordained that the Boh should start 
 On a lone-hand raid of the rearmost cart, 
 
 M 
 
 W 
 
BOH DA THONE 
 
 47 
 
 And out of that cart, with a bellow of woe, ' 
 The Babu fell — flat on the top of the Boh ! 
 
 For years had Harendra served the State, 
 To the growth of his purse and the girth of his 
 pet-— 
 
 There were twenty stone, as the tally-man knows, 
 On the broad of the chest of this best of Bohs. 
 
 And twenty stone from a height discharged 
 Are bad for a Boh with a spleen enlarged. 
 
 Oh, short was the struggle — severe was the shock — 
 He dropped like a bullock — he lay like a block ; 
 
 And the Babu above him, convulsed with fear, 
 Heard the labouring life-breath hissed out in his 
 ear. 
 
 And thus in a fashion undignified 
 
 The princely pest of the Chindvvin died. 
 
 11. 
 
 Turn now to Simoorie where, lapped in his ease, 
 The Captain is petting the Bride on his knees, 
 
 1' 
 
 : 
 
 i 
 
 I ' 1 
 
 I 
 
 I' fl 
 
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 i 
 
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 1 ■" 
 
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I 
 
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 W5IWV 
 
 t^ 
 
 V 
 
 
 43 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 Where the ze////V of the bullet, the wounded man's 
 
 scream 
 Are mixed as the mist of some devilish dream — 
 
 Forgotten, forgotten the sweat of the shambles 
 Where the hill-daisy blooms and the grey monkey 
 gambols, 
 
 From the sword-belt set free and leleased from the 
 
 steel, 
 The Peace of the Lord is with Captain O'Neil. 
 
 Up the hill to Simoorie — most patient of drudges — 
 The bags on his shoulder, the mail-runner trudges. 
 
 *For Captain O'Neil, Sa/iifi. One hundred and ten 
 Rupees to collect on delivery.' 
 
 Then 
 (Their breakfast was stopped while the screw-jack 
 
 and hammer 
 Tore wax-cloth, split teak-wood, and chipped out 
 
 the dammer;) 
 
 Open-eyed, open-mouthed, on the napery's snow. 
 With a crash and a thud, rolled — the Head of the 
 Boh! 
 
, man's 
 
 es 
 monkey 
 
 from the 
 
 [eil. 
 
 drudges- 
 trudges. 
 
 td and ten 
 
 'hen 
 screw-jack 
 
 Ihipped out 
 
 ^'s snow, 
 Lead of the 
 
 BOH DA THONE 
 
 49 
 
 And gummed to the scalp was a letter which 
 ran: — 
 
 *1n Fielding Force Service. 
 ^Encampment, 
 
 *ioth Jan. 
 
 •'Dear Sir, — T have honour to send, as you saidy 
 'For final approval (see under) Boh's Head; 
 
 *\Vas took by myself in most bloody affair. 
 'By High Educadon brought pressure to bear. 
 
 'Now violate Liberty, time being bad, 
 
 'To mail V.P. P. (rupees hundred) Please add 
 
 'Whatever Your Honour can pass. Price of Blood 
 'Much cheap at one hundred, and children want food. 
 
 'So trusting Your Honour will somewhat retain 
 'True love and affection for Govt. Bullock Train, 
 
 'And show awful kindness to satisfy me, 
 *I am, 
 
 'Graceful Master, 
 
 'Your 
 
 'H. M'lkerji.' 
 
 il 
 
 I Jl; 
 
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 i. 
 
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 JM 
 
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 50 
 
 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 As the rabbit is drawn to the rattlesnake's power, 
 As the smoker's eye fills at the opium hour, 
 
 As a horse reaches up to the manger above, 
 
 As the waiting ear yearns for the whisper of love, 
 
 From the arms of the Lride, iron-visaged and slow, 
 The Captain bent down to the Head of the Boh. 
 
 And e'en as he looked on the Thing where It lay 
 'Twixt the winking new spoons and the napkins' 
 array, 
 
 I'he freed mind fled back to the long-ago days — 
 The hand-to-hand scuffle — the smoke and the 
 blaze — 
 
 Ihe forced march at night and the quick rush at 
 
 dawn — 
 The banjo at twilight, the burial ere morn — 
 
 The stench of the marshes — the raw, piercing smell 
 When the overhand stabbing-cut silenced the yell — 
 
 The oaths of his Irish that surged when they stood 
 Where the black crosses hung o'er the Kuttamow 
 flood. 
 
>wer, 
 
 [ love, 
 
 nd slow, 
 Boh. 
 
 It lay 
 ; napkins' 
 
 days — 
 and the 
 
 ,ck rush at 
 
 jrcing smell 
 the yell — 
 
 [hey stood 
 Kuttamow 
 
 BOH DA THONE 61 
 
 As a derelict ship drifts away with the tide 
 
 The Captain went out on the Past from his Bride, 
 
 Back, back, through the springs to the chill of the 
 
 year, 
 When he hunted the Boh from Maloon to Tsaleer. 
 
 As the shape of a corpse dimmers up through deep 
 
 water, 
 In his eye lit the passionless passion of slaughter. 
 
 And men who had fought with O'Neil for the life 
 Had gazed on his face with less dread than his wife. 
 
 For she who had held him so long could not hold 
 him — 
 
 Though a four-month Eternity should have con- 
 trolled him — 
 
 But watched the twin Terror — the head turned to 
 
 head — 
 The scowling, scarred Black, and the flushed savage 
 
 Red— 
 
 The spirit that changed from her knowing and flew 
 
 to 
 Some grim hidden Past she had never a clue to. 
 
 m 
 
 'i 
 
 Ml 
 
 ^ 
 
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 i i 
 
 
 if 
 
52 
 
 BOH DA THONE 
 
 But It knew as It grinned, for he touched it un- 
 
 fearing, 
 And muttered aloud, *So you kept that jade ear- 
 
 ring ! ' 
 
 Then nodded, and kindly, as friend nods to friend, 
 'Old man, you fought well, but you lost in the end.' 
 
 The visions departed, and Shame followed Passion, 
 *Hc took what I said in this horrible fashion, 
 
 '/'//write to Harendra! ' With language unsainted 
 The Captain came back to the Bride . . . who had 
 fainted. 
 
 And this is a fiction? No. Go to Simoorie 
 And look at their baby, a twelve-month old Houri, 
 
 A pert little, Irish-eyed Kathleen Mavournin — 
 She's always about on the Mall of a mornin' — 
 
 And you'll see, if her right shoulder-strap is dis- 
 placed. 
 This: Gules upon argent^ a Boh's Head, erased! 
 
 tv 
 
TH.^ LAMENT OF THE BORDER CAITLE 
 
 THIEF 
 
 O WOE is me for the merry life 
 
 I led beyond the Bar, 
 And a treble woe for my winsome wife 
 
 That weeps at Shalimar. 
 
 They have taken away my long jczail, 
 
 My shield and sabre fine, 
 And heaved me into the Central Jail 
 
 For lifting of the kine. 
 
 r 
 
 The steer may low within the byre. 
 
 The Jut may tend his grain, 
 But there'll be neither loot nor fire 
 
 Till I come back again. 
 
 And God have mercy on the Jr.t 
 
 When once my fetters fall. 
 And Heaven defend the farmer's hut 
 
 When I an? loosed from thrnll. 
 
 53 
 
 I ; iF 
 
 ■■ >^ flu 
 
 K,: 
 
 .j^sa^r--, 
 
iw^ 
 
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 SSPii 
 
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 Elf 
 
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 I, 
 
 64 THE LAMENT OF THE 
 
 It's woe to bend the stubborn back 
 Above the grinching quern, 
 
 It's woe to hear the leg-bar clack 
 And jingle when I turn! 
 
 But for the sorrow and 'he shame, 
 The brand on me and mine, 
 
 I'll pay you back in leaping flame 
 And loss of the butchered kine. 
 
 For every cow I spared before 
 
 In charity set free, 
 If I may reach my hold once more 
 
 I'll reive an honest three! 
 
 For every time I raised the low 
 That scared the dusty plain, 
 
 By sword and cord, by torch and tow 
 I'll light the land with twain! 
 
 Ride hard, ride hard to Abazai, 
 Young Sahib with the yellow hair — 
 
 Lie close, lie close as khuttucks lie, 
 Fat herds below Bonair ! 
 
BORDER CATTLE THIEF 
 
 55 
 
 The one I'll shoot at twilight tide, 
 
 At dawn I'll drive the other; 
 The black shall mourn for hoof and hide, 
 
 The white man for his brother ! 
 
 'Tis war, red war, I'll give you then, 
 
 War till my sinews fail, 
 For the wrong you have done to a chief of men 
 
 And a thief of the Zukka Kheyl. 
 
 And if I fall to your hand afresh 
 
 I give you leave for the sin, 
 That you cram my throat with the foul pig's flesh 
 
 And swing me in the skin ! 
 
 ii' ' 
 
 'Ijj 
 
 11 
 
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 i) 
 
 THE RHYME OF THE THREE CAPTAINS 
 
 7'/i/s ballad appeal's to refer to one of the exploits of the 
 notorious Paul "Jones, the American Pirate. It is founded 
 on fut. 
 
 ... At the close of a winter day, 
 Their anchors down, by London town, the Three 
 
 Great Captains lay. 
 And one was Admiral of the North from Solway 
 
 Firth to Skye, 
 And one was Lord of the Wessex coast and all the 
 
 lands thereby, 
 And one was ALister of the Thames from Limehouse 
 
 to lilackwall. 
 And he was Captain of the Fleet — the bravest of 
 
 them all. 
 I'heir good guns guarded their great grey sides that 
 
 were thirty foot in the sheer. 
 When there came a certain trading-brig with news 
 
 of a privateer. 
 56 
 
THE THREE CAPTAINS 
 
 
 PTAINS 
 
 flits of the 
 is founded 
 
 the Three 
 om Solway 
 md all the 
 Limehouse 
 bravest oi 
 y sides that 
 with news 
 
 Her rigging was rough with the clotted drift that 
 
 drives in a Northern breeze, 
 Her sides were clogged with the lazy weed that 
 
 spawns in the Eastern seas. 
 Light she rode in the rude tide-rip, to left and right 
 
 she rolled, 
 And the skipper sat on the scuttle-butt and stnred 
 
 at an empty hold. 
 *I ha' paid Port dues for your Law,' quoth he, 'and 
 
 where is the Law ye boast 
 *If I sail unscathed from a heathen port to be robbed 
 
 on a Christian coast? 
 'Ye have smoked the hives of the Laccadives as we 
 
 burn the lice in a bunk ; 
 •'We tack not nc sv to a Gallang prow or a plunging 
 
 Pei-ho junk; 
 'I had no fear but the seas were clear as far as a sail 
 
 might fare 
 'Till I met with a lime-washed \ankee brig that rode 
 
 off Finisterre. 
 'There were canvas blinds to his bow-gun ports to 
 
 screen the weight he bore 
 'And the signals ran for a merchantman from Sandy 
 
 Hook to the Nore. 
 
 i . 
 
 i ' • 
 
 ^ 
 
58 
 
 THE RHYME OF 
 
 i 
 
 'He would not fly the Rovers' flag — the bloody or 
 
 the black, 
 'But now he floated the Gridiron and now he flaunted 
 
 the Jack. 
 *He spoke of the Law as he crimped my crew — he 
 
 swore it was only a loan ; 
 'But \»iien I would ask for my own again, he swore 
 
 it was none of my own. 
 'He has taken my little parrakeets that nest beneath 
 
 the Line, 
 'He has stripped my rails of the shaddock-frails and 
 
 the green unripened pine; 
 'He has taken my bale of dammer and spice I won 
 
 beyond the seas, 
 'He has taken my grinning heathen gods — and what 
 
 should he want o' these? 
 'My foremast would not mend his boom, my deck- 
 house patch his boats; 
 'He has whittled the two this Yank Yahoo, to peddle 
 
 for shoepeg-oats. 
 'I could not fight for the failing light and a rough 
 
 beam-sea beside, 
 'But I hulled him once for a clumsy crimp and twice 
 
 because he lied. 
 
 I ' 
 
THE THREE CAPTAINS 
 
 59 
 
 'Had I had guns (as I had goods) to work my 
 
 Christian harm, 
 *I had run him up from his quarter-deck to trade 
 
 with his own yard-arm; 
 *I had nailed his ears to my capstan-head, and ripped 
 
 them off with a saw, 
 'And soused them in the bilgewater, and served them 
 
 to him raw; 
 *I had flung him blind in a rudderless boat to rot in 
 
 the rocking dark 
 *I had towed him aft of his own craft, a bait for his 
 
 brother shark; 
 'I had lapped him round with cocoa husk, and 
 
 drenched him with the oil, 
 'And lashed him fast to his own mast to blaze above 
 
 my spoil; 
 *I had stripped his hide for my hammock-side, and 
 
 tasselled his beard i' the mesh 
 'And spitted his crew on the live bamboo that grows 
 
 through ihe gangrened flesh; 
 'I had hove him down by the mangroves brown, 
 
 where the mud-reef sucks and draws, 
 'Moored by the heel to his own keel to wait for the 
 
 land-crab's claws! 
 
\f 
 
 Jfr 
 
 4 
 
 th 
 
 
 1 
 
 60 
 
 THE RHYME OF 
 
 'He is lazar within and lime without, ye can nose 
 
 him far enow, 
 *For he carries the taint of a musky ship — the reek 
 
 of the skiver's dhow! ' 
 The skipper looked at the tiering guns and the 
 
 bulwarks tall and cold. 
 And the Captains Three full courteously peered 
 
 down at the ^iutted hole, 
 And the Captains Three called courteously from 
 
 deck to scuttle-butt: — 
 *Good Sir, we ha' dealt with that merchantman or 
 
 ever your teeth were cut. 
 *Your words be words of a lawless race, and the Law 
 
 it standeth thus: 
 *He comes of a race that have never a Law, and he 
 
 never has boarded us. 
 *We ha' sold him canvas and rope and spar — we 
 
 know that his price is fair, 
 *And we know that he weeps for the lack of a Law 
 
 as he rides off Finisterre. 
 *And since he is damned for a gallows-thief by you 
 
 and better than you, 
 *We hold it meet that the English fleet should know 
 
 that we hold him true.' 
 
 
 11! 
 
 
a nose 
 le reck 
 ind the 
 peered 
 ly from 
 itman or 
 I the Law 
 ,v, and he 
 spar — we 
 of a l-aw 
 L'f by you 
 uUl know 
 
 THE THREE CAPTAINS 
 
 61 
 
 The skipper called to the tall taffrail: 'And what 
 
 is that to me? 
 'Did ever you hear of a privateer that rifled a 
 
 Seventy-three ? 
 *Do I loom so large from your quarter-deck that I 
 
 lift like a ship o' the Line? 
 *He has learned to run from a shotted gun and harry 
 
 such craft as mine. 
 'There is never a Law on the Cocos Keys to hold 
 
 a white man in, 
 'But we do not steal the niggers' meal, for that is a 
 
 nigger's sin. 
 'Must he have his Law as a quid to chaw, or laid in 
 
 brass on his wheel? 
 'Does he steal with tears when he buccaneers? 
 
 'Fore Gad, then, why does he steal? ' 
 The skipper bit on a deep-sea word, and the word it 
 
 was not sweet, 
 For he could see the Captains Three had signalled 
 
 to the Fleet. 
 But three and two, in white and blue, the whimpering 
 
 flags began : 
 *VVe have heard a tale of a foreign sail, but he is a 
 
 merchantman. ' 
 
 'I ill 
 
 J' 
 
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 62 
 
 THE RHYME OF 
 
 The skipper peered beneath his palm and swore by 
 
 the Great Horn Spoon, 
 "Fore Gad, the Chaplain of the Fleet would bless 
 
 my picaroon ! ' 
 By two and three the flags blew free to lash the 
 
 laughing air, 
 *We have sold our spars to the merchantman — we 
 
 know that his price is fair.' 
 The skipper winked his Western eye, and swore by 
 
 a China storm : — 
 *They ha' rigged him a Joseph's jury-coat to keep 
 
 his honour warm. ' 
 The halliards twanged against the tops, the bunting 
 
 bellied broad. 
 The skipper spat in the empty hold and mourned 
 
 for a wasted cord. 
 Masthead — masthead, the signal sped by the line 
 
 o' the British craft; 
 The skipper called to his Lascar crew, and put her 
 
 about and laughed : — 
 *It's mainsail haul, my bully boys all — we'll out to 
 
 the seas again; 
 *Ere they set us to paint their pirate saint, or scrub 
 
 at his grapnel-ciiain 
 
ore by 
 d bless 
 ,sh the 
 an — we 
 tvore by 
 to keep 
 bunting 
 nourned 
 he line 
 put her 
 out to 
 r scrub 
 
 THE THREE CAPTAINS 
 
 63 
 
 •It's fore-sheet free, with her head to the sea, and 
 
 the swing of the unbought brine — 
 'We'll make no spot in an English court till we 
 
 come as a ship o' the Line, 
 'Till we come as a ship o' the Line, my lads, ot 
 
 thirty foot in the sheer, 
 'Lifting again from the outer main with news of a 
 
 privateer; 
 'Flying his pluck at our mizzen-truck for weft of 
 
 Admiralty, 
 'Heaving his heai in*- our dipsy-lead in sign that we 
 
 keep the se?.. 
 'Then fore-sheet home as she lifts to the foam — we 
 
 stand on the outward tack 
 'We are paid in the coin of the white man's trade — 
 
 the bezant is hard, ay, and black. 
 'The frigate-bird shall carry my word to the Kling 
 
 and the Orang-Laut 
 'How a man may sail from a heathen coast to be 
 
 robbed in a Christian port; 
 'How a man may be robbed in Christian port while 
 
 Three Great Captains there 
 
 'Shall dip their flag to a slaver's rag — to show that his 
 trade is fair ! ' 
 
 ' I'l 
 
 i ' 
 
 I' 
 
 1 1 f 
 
 
 V 1- ? il 
 
 ! I 
 
 » 
 
 Mi 
 
 i W ' 111 
 
k 
 
 
 THE BAIJ.AT3 OF THE 'CLAMPHERDOWN 
 
 It was our war-ship 'Clampherdown * 
 
 Would sweep the Channel clean, 
 Wherefore she kept her hatches close 
 When the merry Channel chops arose, 
 To save the bleached marine. 
 
 She had one bow-gun of a hundred ton, 
 
 And a great stern-gun beside ; 
 They dipped their noses deep in the sea. 
 Thy racked their stays and staunchions free 
 
 In the wash of the wind-whipped tide. 
 
 li 
 
 .1 
 
 It was our war-ship 'Clampherdown,* 
 
 Fell in with a cruiser light 
 That carried the dainty Hotchkiss gun 
 And a pair o' heels wherewith to run, 
 
 From the grip of a close-iought fight. 
 
 64 
 
THE 'CLAMPHERDOWN' 
 
 She opened fire at seven miles — 
 
 As ye shoot at a bobbing cork — 
 And once she fired and twice she fired, 
 Till the bow-gun drooped like a lily tired 
 That lolls upon the stalk. 
 
 65 
 
 ' I 
 
 *Captain, the bow-gun melts apace, 
 
 *Thc deck-beams break below, 
 * 'Twere well to rest for an hour or twain, 
 'And botch the shattered plates again.' 
 
 And he answered, * Make it so. ' 
 
 She opened fire within the mile — 
 
 As ye shoot at the flying duck — 
 And the great stern-gun shot fair and true, 
 With the heave of the ship, to the stainlers 
 blue, 
 
 And the great stern-turret stuck. 
 
 'Captain, icne turret fills with steam, 
 
 'The feed-pipes burst below — 
 
 'You can hear the hiss of helpless ram, 
 
 'You can hear the twisted runners jam.- 
 
 And he answered, 'Turn and go ! ' 
 
 £ 
 
 "ini: 
 
 -^ 
 
«'il 
 
 I 
 
 m ^» 
 
 66 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 It was our war-ship ' Clampherdown, ' 
 
 And grimly did she roll; 
 Swung round to take the cruiser's fire 
 As the White Whale faces the Thresher's ire, 
 
 When they war by the frozen Pole. 
 
 'Captain, the shells are falling fast, 
 
 'And faster still fall we; 
 *And it is not meet for English stock, 
 *To bide in the heart of an eight-day clock, 
 
 'The death they cannot see.' 
 
 *Lie down, lie down my bold A.B., 
 
 *We drift upon her beam; 
 *We dare not ram for she can run; 
 'And dare ye fire another gun, 
 
 'And die in the peeling steam? * 
 
 It was our war-ship 'Clampherdown * 
 
 That carried an armour-belt; 
 But fifty feet at stern and bow. 
 Lay bare as the paunch of the purser's sow, 
 
 To the hail of the Nordenfeldt. 
 
 r 
 
It was our war-ship 'Clampherdown,' 
 
 Swung round upon the tide, 
 Her two dumb guns glared south and north, 
 And the blood and the bubbling steam ran forth, 
 
 And she ground the cruiser's side. 
 
 'Captain, they cry, the fight is done, 
 
 'They bid you send your sword.' 
 And he answered, 'Grapple her stern and bow. 
 'They have asked for the steel. They shall have it 
 now; 
 
 'Out cutlasses and board! ' 
 
 sow, 
 
 It was our war-ship 'Clampherdown,' 
 
 Spewed up four hundred men; 
 And the scalded stokers yelped delight. 
 As they rolled in the waist and heard the fight, 
 
 Stamp o'er their steel-walled pen. 
 
 ' If! 
 
 I -'I 
 
 THE < CLAMPHERDOWN ' 
 
 'Captain, they lack us through and through; 
 
 'The chilled steel bolts are swift ! 
 'We have emptied the bunkers in open sea, 
 'Their shrapnel bursts where our coal should be.' 
 
 And he answered, 'Let her arift.' 
 
 67 
 
 HI 
 
68 THE 'CLAMPHERDOWN' 
 
 They cleared the cruiser end to end, 
 
 From conning-tower to hold. 
 They fought as they fought in Nelson's fleet; 
 They were stripped to the waist, they were bare to 
 the feet. 
 
 As it was in the days of old. 
 
 It was the sinking 'Clampherdown ' 
 
 Heaved up her battered side — 
 And carried a million pounds in steel, 
 To the cod and the corpse-fed conger-eel. 
 
 And the scour of the Channel tide. 
 
 It was the crew of the 'Clampherdown ' 
 
 Stood out to sweep the sea. 
 On a cruiser won from an ancient foe, 
 As it was in the days of long-ago. 
 
 And as it still shall be. 
 
THE BALLAD OF THE 'BOLIVAR' 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 f! 
 
 r 
 
 ! 
 
 Seven men from all the world ^ hack to Docks again. 
 Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising 
 
 Cain : 
 Give the girls another drink fore we sign away — 
 We that took the ^Bolivar ' out across the Bay ! 
 
 We put out from Sunderland loaded down with 
 rails; 
 We put back to Sunderland 'cause our cargo 
 shifted ; 
 We put out from Sunderland — met the winter 
 gales — 
 Seven days and seven nights to the Start we 
 drifted. 
 
 Racketing her rivets loose, smoke-stack white 
 
 as snow, 
 All the coals adrift a deck, half the rails below 
 
 69 
 
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70 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 Leaking like a lobster-pot, sieering like a 
 
 dray — 
 Out we took the 'Bolivar,' out across the Bay! 
 
 One by one the Lights came up, winked and let us 
 
 by; 
 Mile by mile we waddled on, coal and fo'c'sle 
 
 short; 
 Met a blow that laid us down, heard a bulkhead 
 
 fly; 
 Left The Wolf behind us with a two foot-list to 
 
 port. 
 
 Trailing like a wounded duck, working out her 
 
 soul; 
 Clanging like a smithy-shop after every roll; 
 Just a funnel and a mast lurching through the 
 
 spray — 
 So we threshed the 'Bolivar ' out across the Bay ! 
 
 Felt her hog and felt her sag, betted when she'd 
 break; 
 Wondered every time she raced if she'd stand the 
 shock; 
 
 :>; t 
 
ike a 
 Bay! 
 
 let us 
 [o'c'sle 
 ilkhead 
 t-list to 
 
 out her 
 
 •oil; 
 |ugh the 
 
 [he Bay! 
 
 In she'd 
 tand the 
 
 THE 'BOLIVAR 
 
 71 
 
 Heard the seas like drunken men pounding at her 
 strake ; 
 Hoped the Lord 'ud keep his thumb on the 
 plummer-block. 
 
 Banged against the iron decks, bilges choked 
 with coal; 
 
 Flayed and frozen foot and hand, sick of heart 
 and soul; 
 
 'Last we prayed she'd buck herself into Judg- 
 ment Day — 
 
 Hi! we cursed the 'Bolivar' knocking round 
 the Bay! 
 
 Oh ! her nose flung up to sky, groaning to be still — 
 Up and down and back we went, never time for 
 breath ; 
 Then the money paid at Lloyd's caught her by the 
 heel, 
 And the stars ran round and round dancin' at our 
 death. 
 
 Aching for an hour's sleep, dozing off between; 
 Heard the rotten rivets draw when she took it 
 green J 
 
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 72 THE BALLAD OF 
 
 Watched the compass chase its tail like a cat at 
 
 play- 
 That was on the 'Bolivar,' south across the Bay. 
 
 Once we saw between the squalls, lyin' head to 
 swell — 
 Mad with work and weariness, wishin' they was 
 we — 
 Some damned Liner's lights go by like a grand 
 hotel; 
 Cheered her from the 'Bolivar,' swampin' in 
 the sea. 
 
 Then a greyback cleared us out, then the 
 
 skipper laughed; 
 'Boys, the wheel has gone to Hell — rig the 
 
 winches aft! 
 *Yoke the kicking rudder-head — get her under 
 
 way ! ' 
 So we steered her, pulley-haul, out across the 
 
 Bay ! 
 
 Just a pack o' rotten plates puttied up with tar, 
 Jn we came, an' time enough 'cross Bilbao Bar, 
 
a cat at 
 the Bay. 
 
 head to 
 ;hey was 
 a grand 
 pin' in 
 
 THE 'BOLIVAR' 73 
 
 Overloaded, undermanned, meant to founder, 
 
 we 
 
 Euchred God Almighty's storm, bluffed the 
 Eternal Sea ! 
 
 Seven men from all the world, back to town again 
 Rollh^ down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising 
 Oain : 
 
 Seven men from out of Hell. Ain^t the owners gay 
 'Cause we took the 'Bolivar^ safe across the Bay? ' 
 
 n li 
 
 1 1 
 
 len the 
 -rig the 
 r under 
 :oss the 
 
 Bar. 
 
 i 
 
' 
 
 THE LOST LEGION 
 
 • 
 
 There's a Legion that never was 'listed, 
 
 That carries no colours or crest, 
 But, split in a thousand detachments. 
 
 Is breaking the road for the rest. 
 Our fathers they left us their blessing — 
 
 They taught us, and groomed us, and crammed ; 
 But we've shaken the Clubs and the Messes 
 
 To go and find out and be damned, 
 
 Dear boys ! 
 
 To go and get shot and be damned. 
 
 So some of us chevy the slaver, 
 
 And some of us cherish the black, 
 And some of us hunt on the Oil Coast, 
 
 And some on — the Wallaby track : 
 And some of us drift to Sarawak, 
 
 And some of us drift up The Fly, 
 And some share our tucker with tigers, 
 
 And some with the gentle Masai, 
 
 Dear boys ! 
 
 Take tea with the giddy Masai. 
 
 74 Copyriglit, 1893, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
 !* I 
 
THE LOST LEGION 
 
 We've painted The Islands vermilion, 
 
 We've pearled on half-shares in the Bay, 
 We've shouted on seven-ounce nuggets. 
 
 We've starved on a Kanaka's pay. 
 We've laughed at the world as we found it, — 
 
 Its women and cities and men — 
 From Say Yid Burgash in a tantrum 
 
 To the smoke- reddened eyes of Loben, 
 
 Dear boys ! 
 
 We've a little account with Loben. 
 
 We opened the Chinaman's oil-well. 
 
 But the dynamite didn't agree, 
 And the people got up and fan-kwaied us, 
 
 And we ran from Ichang to the sea. 
 Yes, somehow and somewhere and always 
 
 We were first when the trouble began. 
 From a lottery-row in Manila 
 
 To an I. D. B. race on the Pan, 
 
 Dear boys ! 
 
 With the Mounted Police on the Pan. 
 
 We preach in advance of the Army, 
 We skirmish ahead of the Church, 
 
 With never a gunboat to help us 
 
 When we're scuppered and left in the lurch. 
 
 76 
 
 1 II 
 
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 .1 ' ' 
 
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.■..i.K.iiwwwwm., tm 
 
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 ^h' I 
 
 ; I 
 
 76 THE LOST LEGION 
 
 But we know as the cartridges finish 
 And we're filed on our last little shelves, 
 
 That the Legion that never was 'listed 
 Will send us as good as ourselves, 
 
 (Good men !) 
 Five hundred as good as ourselves. 
 
 Then a health (we must drink it in whispers), 
 
 To our wholly unauthorised horde — 
 To the line of our dusty foreloopers, 
 
 The Gentlemen R.overs abroad. 
 Yes, a health to ourselves ere we scatter, 
 
 For the steamer won't wait for the train, 
 And the Legion that never was 'listed 
 Goes back into quarters again. 
 
 'Regards ! 
 Goes back under canvas again. 
 
 Hurrah ! 
 The swag and the billy again. 
 
 Here's how ! 
 The trail and the packhorse again. 
 
 Salue I 
 The trek and the lager again. 
 
THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 Er-Hcb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai 
 Bears 7vitncss to the truth, and Ao-Safai 
 ILith told the men of Gorukh. The nee the tale 
 Conies westiihird o^cr the peaks to India. 
 
 The story of Bisesa, Ainiod's child, — 
 A maiden plighted to the Chief in War, 
 The Man of Sixty Spears who held the Pass 
 That leads to Thibet, but to-day is gone 
 To seek his comfort of the God called Budh 
 The Silent — showing how the Sickness ceased 
 Because of her who died to save the tribe. 
 
 f; 
 
 Taman is One and greater than us all, 
 Taman is One and greater than all Gods: 
 Taman is Two in One and rides the sky, 
 Curved like a stallion's croup, from dusk to dawn, 
 And drums U|)on it with his heels, whereby 
 
 Is bred the neighing thunder in the hills. 
 
 Copyright, iSga, by Macniillan & Co. 
 
 77 
 
 7 I 
 
 'I 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
78 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 This is Taman, the God of all Er-Heb, 
 Who was before all Gods, and made all Gods, 
 And presently will break the Gods he made. 
 And step upon the Earth to govern men 
 Who give him milk-dry ewes and cheat 
 
 Priests, 
 Or leave his shrine unlighted — as Er-Heb 
 Left it unlighted and forgot Taman, 
 When all the Valley followed after Kysh 
 And Yabosh, little Gods but very wise, 
 And from the sky Taman beheld their sin. 
 
 his 
 
 He sent the Sickness out upon the hills 
 
 The Red Horse Sickness with the iron hooves, 
 
 To turn the Valley to Taman again. 
 
 And the Red Horse snuffed thrice into the wind, 
 The naked wind that had no fear of him; 
 And the Red Horse stamped thrice upon the snow, 
 The naked snow that had no fear of him ; 
 And the Red Horse went out across the rocks 
 The ringing rocks that had no fear of him; 
 And downward, where the lean birch meets the 
 snow 
 
snow, 
 
 ;ets the 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 79 
 
 And downward, where the grey pine meets the birch, 
 And downward, where the dwarf oak meets the pine. 
 Till at his feet our cup-like pastures lay. 
 
 That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped. 
 
 Dropped as a cloth upon a dead man's face, 
 
 And weltered in the valley, bluish-white 
 
 Like water very silent — spread abroad. 
 
 Like water very silent, from the Shrine 
 
 Unlighted of Taman to where the stream 
 
 Is dammed to fill our cattle-troughs — sent up 
 
 White waves that rocked and heaved and then were 
 
 still, 
 Till all the Valley glittered like a marsh. 
 Beneath the moonlight, filled with sluggish mist 
 Knee-deep, so that men waded as they v;alked. 
 
 That night, the Red Horse grazed above the Dam, 
 Beyond the cattle-troughs. Men heard him feed. 
 And those that heari him sickened where they lay. 
 
 Thus came the sickness to Er-Heb, and slew 
 Ten men, strong men, and of the women four; 
 And the Red Horse went hillward with the dawn, 
 But near tne cattle-troughs his hoof-prints lay. 
 
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 80 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped, 
 Dropped as a cloth upon the dead, but rose 
 A little higher, to a young girl's height; 
 Till all the valley glittered like a lake. 
 Beneath the moonlight, filled with sluggish mist. 
 
 That ''igbt, the Red Horse grazed beyond the Dam 
 A : u's throw from the troughs. Men heard hira 
 
 Aiid tho ^ *hat herrd him sickened where they lay. 
 Thus came the sickness to Er-Heb, and slew 
 Of men a score, and of the women eight, 
 And of the children two. 
 
 Because the road 
 To Gor'^kh was a road of enemies. 
 And Ao-Safai was blocked with early snow, 
 We could not flee from out the Valley. Death 
 Smote at us in a slaughter-pen, and Kysh 
 Was mute as Yabosh, though the goats were slain; 
 And the Red Horse grazed nightly by the stream, 
 And later, outward, towards the Unlighted Shrine, 
 And those that heard him sickened where they 
 lay. 
 
|lain; 
 ;am, 
 irine, 
 [re they 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 81 
 
 Then said Bisesa to the Priests at dusk, 
 
 When the white mist rose up breast-high and choked 
 
 The voices in the houses of the dead : — 
 
 *Yabosh and Kysh avail not. If the Horse 
 
 'Reach the Unlighted Shrine we surely die. 
 
 *Ye have forgotten of all (iods the Chief 
 
 'Tanian ! * Here rolled the thunder through the Hill. 
 
 And Yabosh shook upon his pedestal. 
 
 *Ye have forgotten of all Gods the chief 
 
 'Too long.' And all were dumb save one who cried 
 
 On Yabosh with the Sapphire 'twixt His kn?" 
 
 But found no answer in the smoky roof 
 
 And, being smitten of the sickness died 
 
 Before the altar of the Sapphire Shrine. 
 
 Then said Bisesa: — *I am near to Death, 
 'And have the Wisdom of the Grave for gift 
 'To bear me on the path my feet must tread. 
 'If there be wealth on earth, then I am rich, 
 'For Armod is the first of all Er-Heb; 
 'If there be beauty on the earth,' — her eyes 
 Dropped for a moment to the temple floor, — 
 'Ye know that I am fair. If there be Love, 
 *Ye know that love is mine.' The Chief in War, 
 
 ! 
 
 
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 I I 
 
 
82 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 The Man of Sixty Snears, broke from the press, 
 
 And would have clasped her, but the Priests with- 
 stood. 
 
 Saying: — 'She has a message from Taman.' 
 
 Then said Bisesa : — * By my wealth and love 
 
 *And beauty, I am chosen of the God 
 
 * Taman.' Here rolled the thunder through the 
 Hills 
 
 And Kysh fell forward on the Mound of Skulls. 
 
 In darkness and before our Priests, the maid 
 Between the altars, cast her bracelets down. 
 Therewith the heavy earrings Armod made. 
 When he was young, out of the water-gold 
 Of Gorukh — threw the breast-plate thick with jade 
 Upon the turquoise anklets — put aside 
 The bands of silver on her brow and neck; 
 And as the trinkets tinkled on the stones, 
 The Thunder of Taman lowed like a bull. 
 
 Then said Bisesa stretching out her hands. 
 As one in darkness fearing Devils: — 'Help! 
 *0 Priests, I am a woman very weak. 
 
5) 
 
 3 with- 
 
 Ligh the 
 lIs. 
 
 i 
 
 ith jade 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 83 
 
 *And who am I to know the will of Gods? 
 'Tamaii hath called me — whither shall I go? ' 
 The Chief in War, the Man of Sixty Spears 
 Howled in his torment fettered by the Priests 
 But dared not come to her to drag her forth, 
 And dared not lift his spear against the Priests. 
 Then all men wept. 
 
 Tliere was a Priest of Kysh 
 Bent with a hundred winters, hairless, blind 
 And taloned as the great Snow-Eagle is. 
 His seat was nearest to the altar-fires, 
 And he was counted dumb among the Priests. 
 But, whether Kysh decreed, or from Taman 
 The impotent tongue found utterance we know 
 As little as the bats beneath the eaves. 
 He cried so that they heard who stood without : — 
 'To the Unlighted Shrine ! ' and crept aside 
 Into the shadow of his fallen God 
 And whimpered, and Bisesa went her way. 
 
 That night, the slow mists of the evening dropped, 
 Dropped as a cloth upon the dead, and rose 
 Above the roofs, and by the Unlighted Shrine 
 
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84 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 Ivay as the slimy water of the troughs 
 When murrain thins the cattle of Er-Heb : 
 And through the mist men heard the Red Horse 
 feed. 
 
 In Armod's house they burned Bisesa's dower, 
 And killed her black bull Tor, and broke her wheel. 
 And loosed her hair, as for the marriage-feast 
 With cries more loud than mourning for the dead. 
 
 Across the fields, from Armod's dwelling-place, 
 
 We heard Bisesa weeping where she passed 
 
 To seek the Unlighted Shrine; the Red Horse 
 
 neighed 
 And followed her, and on the river-mint 
 His hooves struck dead and heavy in our ears. 
 
 Out of the mists of evening, as the star 
 
 Of Ao-Safai climbs through the black snow-blur 
 
 To show the Pass is clear, Bisesa stepped 
 
 Upon the great grey slope of mortised stone. 
 
 The Causeway of Taman. The Red Horse neighed 
 
 Behind her to the Unlighted Shrine — then fled 
 
 North to the Mountain where his ..table lies. 
 
 .;'**... 
 
THE SACRIP^ICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 86 
 
 Horse 
 
 They know who dared the anger of Taman, 
 And watched that night above the clinging mists, 
 Far up the hill, Bisesa's passing in. 
 
 ■ wheel, 
 
 t 
 
 dead. 
 
 ce, 
 
 i Horse 
 
 :s. 
 
 She set her hand upon the carven door, 
 Fouled by a myriad bats, and black with time, 
 Whereon is graved the (llory of Taman 
 In letters older than the Ao-Safai ; 
 And twice she turned aside and twice she wept, 
 Cast down upon the threshold, clamouring 
 For him she loved — the Man of Sixty Spears, 
 And for her father, — and the black bull Tor 
 Hers and her pride. Yea, twice she turned away 
 Before the awful darkness of the door, 
 And the great horror of the Wall of Man 
 Where Man is made the plaything of Timan, 
 An Eyeless Face that waits above and laughs. 
 
 ( , 
 
 )lur 
 
 neighed 
 
 But the third time she cried and put her palms 
 Against the hewn stone leaves, and prayed Taman 
 To spare Er-Heb and take her life for price. 
 
 They know who watched, the doors were rent apart 
 And closed upon Bisesa, and the rain 
 
 h f' ■ 
 
86 
 
 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB 
 
 Broke like a flood across the Valley, washed 
 The mist away; but louder than the rain 
 The thunder of Taman filled men with fear. 
 
 Some say that from the Unlighted Shrine she cried 
 
 For succour, very pitifully, thrice, 
 
 And others that she sang and had no fear. 
 
 And some that there was neither song nor cry, 
 
 But only thunder and the lashing rain. 
 
 Howbeit, in the morning, men rose up, 
 Perplexed with horror, crowding to the Shrine, 
 And when F>-Heb was gathered at the doors 
 The Priests made lamentation and i)assed in 
 To a strange 'J'emple and a God they feared 
 But knew not. 
 
 From the crevices the grass 
 Had thrust the altar-slabs apart, the walls 
 Were grey with stains unclean, the roof-beams 
 
 swelled 
 With many-coloured growth of rottenness, 
 And lichen veiled the Image of Taman 
 In leprosy. The Basin of the Blood 
 
THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HED 87 
 
 Above the altar held the morning sun 
 A winking ruby on its heart; below, 
 Face hid in hands, the maid Disesa lay, 
 
 Er-Heb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai 
 Bears witness to the truth, and Ao-Safai 
 Hath told the men of Gorukh. Thence the talc 
 Comes wcstivard o'er the peaks to India. 
 
I 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE DOVE OF DACCA 
 
 The freed dove flew to the Rajah's tower — 
 P'led from the slaughter of Moslem kings — 
 
 And the thorns have covered the city of Gaur. 
 Dove — dove — oh, homing dove ! 
 
 Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings ! 
 
 The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall ; 
 
 Fie set in his bosom a dove of flight — 
 " If she return, be sure that I fall." 
 
 Dove — dove — oh, homing dove ! 
 Pressed to his heart in the thick of the fight. 
 
 " Fire the palace, the fort, and the keep — 
 
 Leave to the foeman no spoil at all. 
 In the flame of the j^akce lie down and sleep 
 
 If the dove, if the dove — if the homing dove 
 Come and alone to the palace wall." 
 
 The Kings of the North they were scattered abroad— 
 The Rajah of Dacca he slew them all. 
 
 Hot from slaughter he stooped at the ford, 
 
 And tho dove — the dove — olr, the homing dove ! 
 
 She thought of her cote on the jialace wall. 
 
 88 
 
 Copyri^lit, 1893, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
THE DOVE OF DACCA 89 
 
 She opened her wings and she flew away — 
 
 Fluttered away beyond recall ; 
 She came to the palace at break of day. 
 
 Dove — dove — oh, homing dove ! 
 Flying so fast for a kingdom's fall. 
 
 The Queens of Dacca they slept in flame — 
 
 Slept in the flame of the palace old — 
 To save their honour from Moslem shame. 
 
 And the dove — the dove — oh, the homing dove ! 
 She cooed to her young where the smoke-cloud rolled. 
 
 The Rajah of Dacca rode far and fleet, 
 
 Followed as fast as a horse could fly, 
 He came and the palace was black at his feet ; 
 
 And the dove — the dove — the homing dove, 
 Circled alone in the stainless sky. 
 
 So the dove flew to the Rajah's tower — 
 Pled from the slaughter of Moslem kings ; 
 
 So the thorns covered the city of Gaur, 
 
 And Dacca was lost for a white dove's wings. 
 
 Dove — dove — oh, homing dove, 
 Dacca is lost from the roll of the kings I 
 
 i 
 
 *4 
 
 IF 
 
 ! 
 
 ? I 
 
Hi 
 
 THE EXPLANATION 
 
 Love and Death once ceased their strife 
 At the Tavern of Man's Life. 
 Called for wine, and threw — alas ! — 
 Each his quiver on the grass. 
 When the bout was o'er they found 
 Mingled arrows strewed the ground. 
 Hastily they gathered then 
 Each the loves and lives of men. 
 Ah, the fateful dawn deceived ! 
 Mingled arrows each one sheaved; 
 Death's dread armoury was stored 
 With the shafts he most abhorred ; 
 Love's light quiver groaned beneath 
 Venom- headed darts of Death. 
 
 Thus it wa? *'" '^v wrought our woe 
 
 Ai the Ta^ crii V ng ago. 
 
 Tell mc, do our masters know, 
 
 Loosing blindly as they fly, 
 
 Old men love while young men die? 
 
 90 
 
AN ANSWER 
 
 A Rose, in tatters on the garden path, 
 
 Cried out to God «,nd murmured 'gainst His wrath, 
 
 Because a sudden wind at twilight's hush 
 
 Had snapped her stem alone of all the bush. 
 
 And God, who hears both sun-dried dust and sun. 
 
 Made answer whispering to that luckless one, 
 
 " Sister, in that thou sayest We did not well — 
 
 What voices heardst thou when thy petals fell?" 
 
 And the Rose answered, " In that evil hour 
 
 A voice said, ' Father, wherefore falls the flower ? 
 
 For lo, the very gossamers are still.' 
 
 And a voice answered, * Son, by Allah's will ! ' " 
 
 Then softly as a rain-mist on the sward. 
 
 Came to the Rose the Answer of the Lord : 
 
 " Sister, before We smote the dark in twain, 
 
 Ere yet the stars saw one mother plain. 
 
 Time, tide, and space. We bound unto the task 
 
 That thou shouldst fall, and such an one should ask." 
 
 Whereat the withered flower, all content. 
 
 Died as they die whose days are innocent ; 
 
 While he who questioned why the flower fell 
 
 Caught hold of God and saved his soul from Hell. 
 
 Copyright, 1893, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
 (^ ( 
 
 "■ . «■ 
 
 '' I' I if 
 
SM 
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SEA 
 
 The dead child lay in the shroud, 
 
 And the widow watched beside; 
 And her mother slept, and the Channel swept 
 
 The gale in the teeth of the tide. 
 
 But the mother laughed at all. 
 
 * 1 have lost my man in the sea. 
 
 And the child is dead. Be still,' she said, 
 
 * What more can ye do to me ? ' 
 
 The widow watched the dead, 
 
 And the candle guttered low. 
 And she tried to sing the Passing Seng 
 
 'J'hat bids the poor soul go. 
 
 And * Mary take you now, ' she sang, 
 
 'That lay against my heart.' 
 And 'Mary smooth your crib to night,' 
 
 But she could not say 'Depart.' 
 
 92 
 
THE GIFT OF THE SEA 
 
 93 
 
 Then came a cry from the sea, 
 
 But the sea-rime blinded the glass, 
 And 'Heard ye nothing, mother? ' she said, 
 Tis the child that waits to pass.' 
 
 ( I' 
 
 And the nodding mother sighed. 
 
 "Tis a lambing ewe in the whin, 
 *For why should the christened soul cry out, 
 
 'That never knew of sin? ' 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 *0 feet I have held in my hand, 
 
 *0 hands at my heart to catch, 
 'How should they know the road to go, 
 
 'And how should they lift the latch?' 
 
 They laid a sheet to the door, 
 
 A\'ith the little quilt atop. 
 That it might not hurt from the cold or the dirt. 
 
 But the crying would not stop. 
 
 The widow lifted the latch 
 
 And strained her eyes to see. 
 And opened the door on the bitter shore 
 
 To let the soul go free. 
 
 
 11:1 
 
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 94 
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SEA 
 
 There was neither glimmer nor ghost, 
 
 There was neither spirit nor spark, 
 And 'Heard ye nothing, mother? ' she said, 
 
 *'Tis crying for me in the dark.' 
 
 And the nodding mother sighed, 
 
 * *Tis sorrow makes ye dull ; 
 'Have ye yet to learn the cry of the tern, 
 
 *Or the wail of the wind-blown gull? * 
 
 'The terns are blown inland, 
 
 'The grey gull follows the plough. 
 "Twas never a bird, the voice I heard, 
 
 'O mother, I hear it now! ' 
 
 'Lie still, dear lamb, lie still; 
 
 'The child is passed from harm, 
 ' 'Tis the ache in your breast that broke your rest, 
 
 'And the feel of an empty arm.' 
 
 She put her mother aside, 
 
 'In Mary's name let be! 
 *For the peace of my soul I must go,' she said, 
 
 And she went to the calling sea. 
 
au !. !H 
 
 THE GIFT OF THE SEA 05 
 
 In the heel of the wind-bit pier, 
 
 Where the twisted weed was piled, 
 She came to the life she had missed by an hour, 
 
 For she came to a little child. 
 
 She laid it into her buast, 
 
 And back to her mother she came, 
 But it would not feed and it would not heed, 
 
 Though she gave it her own child's name. 
 
 And the dead child dripped on her breast, 
 And her own in the shroud lay stark; 
 
 And *God forgive us, mother,' she said, 
 *We let it die in the dark! ' 
 
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 EVARRA AND HIS GODS 
 
 Read here, 
 
 This is the story of Evarra — man — 
 
 Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. 
 Because the city gave him of her gold, 
 Because the caravans brought turquoises, 
 Because his life was sheltered by the King, 
 So that no man should maim him, none should 
 
 steal, 
 Or break his rest with babble in the streets 
 When he was weary after toil, he made 
 An image of his God in gold and pearl, 
 With turquoise diadem and human eyes, 
 A wonder ii. the sunshine, known afar 
 And worshipped by the King; but, drunk with 
 
 pride, 
 Because the city bowed to him for God, 
 He wrote above the shrine: ^ Thus Gods are made, 
 ^And ivhoso makes them othenvise shall die.^ 
 And all the city praised him. . . . Then he died. 
 90 
 
 -r»»' 
 
with 
 
 lued. 
 
 EVARRA AND HIS GODS 
 
 97 
 
 J^eat/ here the story of Evarra — )nan — 
 
 Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. 
 Because the city had no wealth to give, 
 Because the caravans were spoiled aiar, 
 Because his life was threatened by the King, 
 So that all men despised him in the streets, 
 He hewed the living rock, with sweat and tears, 
 And reared a God against the morning-gold, 
 A terror in the sunshine, seen afar. 
 And worshipped by the King; but, driuik with 
 
 pride, 
 Because the city fawned to bring hiiii back, 
 He carved upon the plinth: ''Thus Gods arc made, 
 *And whoso makes them otherwise shall die.'' 
 And all the people praised him. . . . Then he 
 died. 
 
 Read here the story of Evarra — man — 
 
 Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. 
 Because he lived among a simple folk, 
 Because his village was between the hills. 
 Because he smeared his cheeks with blood of ewes, 
 He cut an idol from a fallen pine. 
 Smeared blood upon its cheeks, and wedged a shell 
 
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 98 EVARRA AND HIS GODS 
 
 Above its brows for eyes, and gave it hair 
 Of trailing moss, and plaited straw for crown. 
 And all the village praised him for this craft, 
 And brought him butter, honey, milk, and curds. 
 Wherefore, because the shoutings drove him mad. 
 He scratched upon that log : * Thus Gods are made, 
 *And whoso makes them otherwise shall die,* 
 And all the people praised him. , . . Then he 
 died. 
 
 Read here the story of Evarra — man — 
 
 Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. 
 
 Because his God decreed one clot of blood 
 Should swerve one hair's-breadth from the pulse's 
 
 path, 
 And chafe his brain, Evarra mowed alone. 
 Rag-wrapped, among the cattle in the fields, 
 Counting his fingers, jesting with the trees, 
 And mocking at the mist, until his God 
 Drove him to labour. Out of dung and horns 
 Dropped in the mire he made a monstrous God, 
 Abhorrent, shapeless, crowned with plaintain tufts, 
 And when the cattle lowed at twilight time, 
 He dreamed it was the clamour of lost crowds, 
 
Ml 
 
 IS 
 
 [od, 
 tufts, 
 
 EVARRA AND HIS GODG 
 
 99 
 
 And howled among the beasts: 'Thus Gods are 
 
 made^ 
 * And whoso makes them otherwise shall die J* 
 Thereat the cattle bellowed. . . . Then he died. 
 
 Yet at the last he came to Paradise, 
 
 And found his own four Gods, and that he wrote; 
 
 And marvelled, being very near to God, 
 
 What oaf on earth had made his toil God's law. 
 
 Till God said mocking: *Mock not. These be 
 
 thine.' 
 Then cried Evarra: *I have sinned! ' — 'Not so. 
 *If thou hadst written otherwise, thy Gods 
 'Had rested in the mountain and the mine, 
 'And I were poorer by four wondrous Gods, 
 *And tiiy more wondrous law, Evarra. Thine, 
 'Servant of shouting crowds and lowing kine.' 
 
 Thereat, with laughing mouth, but tear-wet eyes, 
 Evarra cast his Gods from Paradise. 
 
 This is the story of Evarra — man — 
 Maker of Gods in lands i'vond the sea. 
 
 
 ■■ 
 
 :\ i 
 
THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKSHOPS 
 
 When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on 
 
 Eden's green and gold, 
 Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched 
 
 with a stick in the moul(i; 
 And the first rude sketch that the world had seen 
 
 was joy to his mighty heart, 
 Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, 'It's 
 
 pretty, but is it Art?* 
 
 Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion 
 
 his work anew — 
 The first of his race A'ho cared a fig for the first, 
 
 most dread review; 
 And he left his lore to the use of his sons — and 
 
 that was a glorious gain 
 When the Devil chuckled 'Is it Art?* in the ear 
 
 of the branded Cain. 
 100 
 
THE CONUNDRUM 
 
 101 
 
 They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench 
 
 the stars apart, 
 Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks: 'It's 
 
 striking, but is it Art? ' 
 The stone was dropped at the quarry-side and the 
 
 idle derrick swung, 
 While each man talked of the aims of Art, and 
 
 each in an alien tongue. 
 
 They fought and they talked in the North and 
 
 the South, they talked and they fought in 
 
 the West, 
 Till the waters rose on the pitiful land, and the 
 
 poor Red Clay had rest — 
 Had rest till the dank, blank-canvas dawn when the 
 
 dove was preened to start, 
 And the Devil bubbled below the keel: "It's 
 
 human, but is it Art? ' 
 
 The tale is as old as the Eden Tree — and new as 
 
 the new-cut tooth — 
 For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is 
 
 master of Art and Truth; 
 
 Vv 
 
 111 
 
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102 
 
 THE CONUNDRUM OF 
 
 And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the 
 
 beat of his dying heart, 
 The Devil drum on the darkened pane: 'You did 
 
 it, but was it Art? ' 
 
 We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the 
 
 shape of a surplice-peg. 
 We have learned to bottle our parents twain in the 
 
 yelk of an addled egg. 
 We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the 
 
 horse is drawn by the cart; 
 But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: 'It's 
 
 clever, but is it Art? ' 
 
 When the flicker of London sun falls faint on the 
 
 Club-room's green and gold, 
 The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with 
 
 their pens in the mould — 
 They scratch with their pens in the mould of their 
 
 graves, and thj ink and the anguish start, 
 For the Devil mutters behind the leaves: 'It's 
 
 pretty, but is it Art? ' 
 
THE WORKSHOPS 
 
 103 
 
 Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the 
 
 Four Great Rivers flow, 
 And the Wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she 
 
 left it long ago, 
 And if we could come when the sentry slept and 
 
 softly scurry through, 
 By the favour of God we might know as much — 
 
 as our father Adam knew. 
 
 
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 IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 
 
 In the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage 
 For food and fame and two-toed horses' pelt ; 
 
 I was singer to my clan in that dim, red Dawn of Man, 
 And I sang of all we fought and feared and felt. 
 
 Yea, I sang as now I sing, when the Prehistoric spring 
 Made the piled Biscayan ice-pack split and shove, 
 
 And the troll and gnome and dwerg, and the Gods of 
 Cliff and Berg 
 W#re about me and beneath me and above. 
 
 But a rival of Solutr^ toJd the tribe my style was outre — 
 By a hammer, grooved of dolomite, he fell. 
 
 And I left my views on Art, barbed and tanged, be- 
 neath the heart 
 Of a mammothistic etcher at Crenelle. 
 
 Then I stripped them, scalp from skull, and my hunt- 
 ing dogs fed full, 
 And their teeth I threaded neatly on a thong ; 
 
 104 Copyright, 1893, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
 ^nwi 
 
IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 
 
 105 
 
 And I wiped my mouth and said, " It is well that they 
 are dead, 
 For I know my work is right and theirs was wrong." 
 
 i 
 
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 ' »'i 
 
 lunt- 
 
 But my Totem saw the shame; from his ridgepole 
 shrine he came. 
 And he told me in a vision of the night : — 
 " There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal 
 lays. 
 And every single one of them is right ! " 
 
 Then the silence closed upon me till They put new 
 clothing on me 
 Of whiter, weaker flesh and bone more frail ; 
 And I stepped beneath Time's finger once again a 
 tribal singer 
 And a minor poet certified by Tr — 1. 
 
 Still they skirmish to and fro, men my messmates on 
 the snow. 
 
 When we headed off the aurochs turn for turn ; 
 When the rich AUobrogenses never kept amanuenses. 
 
 And our only plots were piled in lakes at Berne. 
 
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 106 
 
 IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 
 
 Still a cultured Christian age sees us scuffle, squeak, 
 and rage, 
 Still we pinch and slap and jabber — scratch and 
 dirk; 
 Still we let our business slide — as we dropped the half- 
 dressed hide — 
 To show a fellow-savage how to work. 
 
 Still the world is wondrous large, — seven seas from 
 marge to marge, — 
 And it holds a vast of various kinds of man ; 
 And the wildest dreams of Kew are the facts of Khat- 
 mandhu 
 And the crimes of Clapham chaste in Martaban. 
 
 Here's my wisdom for your use, as I learned it when 
 the moose 
 And the reindeer roared where Paris roars to-night : 
 There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal 
 lays. 
 And — every — single — one — of — them — is — right. 
 
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 "Tft??' 
 
THE LEGEND OF EVIL 
 
 This is the sorrowful story 
 Told when the twilight fails 
 
 And the monkeys walk together 
 Holding each other's tails. 
 
 |i| 
 
 *Our fathers lived in the forest, 
 
 'Foolish people were they, 
 *They went down to the cornland 
 
 'To teach the farmers to play. 
 
 'Our fathers frisked in the millet, 
 'Our fathers skipped in the wheat, 
 
 *Our fathers hung from the branches, 
 'Our fathers danced in the street. 
 
 'Then came the terrible farmers, 
 'Nothing of play they knew, 
 
 'Only . . . they caught our fathers 
 'And set them to labour too ! 
 
 Copyright, 189a, by Macmillan & Co. JQ^ 
 
 1 .1 1 
 
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108 THE LEGEND OF EVIL 
 
 'Set them to work in the cornland 
 'With ploughs and sickles and flails, 
 
 'Put them in mud-walled prisons 
 'And — cut off their beautiful tails 1 
 
 'Now, we can watch our fathers, 
 
 'Sullen and bowed and old, 
 'Stooping over the millet, 
 'Sharing the silly mould. 
 
 'Driving a foolish furrow, 
 
 'Mending a muddy yoke, 
 'Sleeping in mud-walled prisons, 
 
 'Steeping their food in smoke. 
 
 'We may not speak to our fathers, 
 
 'For if the farmers knew 
 'They would come up to the forest 
 
 'And set us to labour too!* 
 
 * 
 
 This is the horrible story 
 
 Told as the twilight fails 
 And the monkeys walk together 
 
 Holding each other's tails. 
 
 if 
 
THE LEGEND OF EVIL 
 
 109 
 
 II 
 
 *TwAS when the rain fell steady an' the Ark was 
 pitched an' veady, 
 That Noah got his ortiers for to take the bastes 
 below; 
 He dragged them all together by the horn an' hide 
 an' feather, 
 An' all excipt the Donkey was agreeable to go. 
 
 Thin Noah spoke him fairly, thin talked to him 
 sevarely. 
 An' thin he cursed him squarely to the glory av 
 the Lord: 
 *Divil take the ass that bred you, and the greater 
 ass that fed you — 
 Divil go wid you, ye spalpeen ! ' an' the Donkey 
 went aboard. 
 
 But the wind was always failin', an' 'twas most 
 onaisy sailin'. 
 An' the ladies in the cabin couldn't stand the 
 stable air; 
 
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110 
 
 THE LEGEND OF EVIL 
 
 An' the bastes betwuxt the hatches, they tuk an' 
 died in batches, 
 Till Noah said: 'There's wan av us that hasn't 
 paid his fare ! * 
 
 For he heard a flusteration wid the bastes av all 
 creation — 
 The trumpetin' av elephints an' bellowin' av 
 whales; 
 An' he saw forninst the windy whin he wint to 
 stop the shindy 
 The Divil wid a stable-fork bedivillin' their tails. 
 
 The Divil cursed outrageous, but Noah said um- 
 brageous : 
 *To what am I indebted for this tenant-right 
 invasion ? ' 
 An' the Divil gave for answer: 'Evict me if you 
 can, sir, 
 'For I came in wid the Donkey — on Your 
 Honour's invitation.' 
 
THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 • Above the portico a flag-staff, bearing the Union Jack, 
 remained fluttering in the flames for some time, but ulti- 
 mately when it fell the crowds rent the air xvith shouts, 
 and seemed to see significance in the incident. — Daily Papers. 
 
 Winds of the World, give answer? They are 
 
 whimpering to and fro — 
 And what should they know of England who only 
 
 England know? — 
 The poor little street-bred people that vapour and 
 
 fume and brag, 
 They are lifting their heads in the stillness to yelp 
 
 at the English Flag ! 
 
 Must we borrow a clout from the Boer — to plaster 
 
 anew with dirt? 
 An Irish liar's bandage, or an English coward's 
 
 shirt? 
 We may not speak of England; her Flag's to sell or 
 
 share. 
 
 What is the Flag of England? Winds of the 
 
 World, declare 1 
 
 111 
 
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 .1 ' 
 
 i 
 
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 112 
 
 THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 The North Wind blew: — 'From Bergen my steel- 
 shod van-guards goj 
 
 'I chase your lazy whalers home from the Disko 
 floe; 
 
 *By the groat North Lights above me I work the 
 will of God, 
 
 'That the liner splits on the ice-field or the Dogger 
 fills with cod. 
 
 *I barred my gates with iron, I shuttered my doors 
 
 with flame, 
 * Because to force my ramparts your nutshell navies 
 
 came; 
 *I took the sun from their presence, I cut them 
 
 down with my blast, 
 'And they died, but the Flag of England blew free 
 
 ere the spirit passed. 
 
 'The lean white bear hath seen it in the long, long 
 
 Arctic night, 
 'The musk-ox knows the standard that flouts the 
 
 Northern Light: 
 'What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my 
 
 bergs to dare, 
 'Ye have but my drifts to conquer. Go forth, for it 
 
 is there ! ' 
 
 Ki 
 
THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 The South Wind sighed: — 'From The Virgins my 
 
 mid-sea course was ta'en 
 'Over a thousand islands lost in an idle main, 
 'Where the sea-egg flames on the coral and the 
 
 long-backed breakers croon 
 *Their endless ocean legends to the lazy, locked 
 
 lagoon. 
 
 'Strayed amid lonely islets, mazed amid outer 
 
 keys, 
 *I waked the palms to laughter — I tossed the scud in 
 
 the breeze — 
 * Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone, 
 *But over the scud and the palm-trees an English 
 
 flag was flown. 
 
 *I have wrenched it free from the halliard to hang 
 
 for a wisp on the Horn; 
 *I have chased it north to the Lizard — ribboned and 
 
 rolled and torn; 
 *I have spread its fold o'er the dying, adrift in a 
 
 hopeless sea; 
 *I have hurled it swift on the slaver, and seen the 
 
 slave set free. 
 
 H 
 
 Ml 
 
 i 
 
114 
 
 THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 I 
 
 *My basking sunfish know it, and wheeling albatross, 
 'Where the lone wave fills with fire beneath the 
 
 Southern Cross. 
 'What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my 
 
 reefs to dare, 
 *Ye have but my seas to furrow. Go forth, for it is 
 
 there ! ' 
 
 The East Wind roared: — 'From the Kuriles, the 
 
 Bitter Seas, I come, 
 'And me men call the Home- Wind, for I bring the 
 
 English home. 
 'Look — look well to your shipping! By the breath 
 
 of my mad typhoon 
 'I swept your close-packed Praya and beached your 
 
 best at Kowloon ! 
 
 'The reeling junks behind me and the racing seas 
 before, 
 
 'I raped your richest roadstead — I plundered Singa- 
 pore! 
 
 'I set my hand on the Hoogli; as a hooded snake 
 she rose, 
 
 'And I flung your stoutest steamers to roost with 
 the startled crows. 
 
 ^>i**^- 
 
THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 * Never the lotos closes, never the wild-fowl wake, 
 *But a soul goes out on the East Wind that died iui 
 
 England's sake — 
 'Man or woman or suckling, mother or bride oi 
 
 maid — 
 'Because on the bones of the English the English 
 
 Flag is stayed. 
 
 *The desert-dust hath dimmed it, the flying wild-ass 
 knows 
 
 'The scared white leopard winds it across the taint- 
 less snows. 
 
 'What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my 
 sun to dare, 
 
 *Ye have but my sands to travel. Go forth, for it is 
 there ! ' 
 
 I i 1 ' 
 
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 iga- 
 lake 
 nth. 
 
 The West Wind called: — 'In squadrons the thought- 
 less galleons fly 
 
 'That bear the wheat and cattle lest street-bred 
 people die. 
 
 'They make my might their porter, they ma^-" my 
 house their path, 
 
 'Till I loose my neck from their rudder and whelm 
 them all in my wrath. 
 
 ' 4 
 
 I i 
 
116 
 
 THE ENGLISH FLAG 
 
 *I draw the gliding fog-bank as a snake is drawn 
 from tiie hole; 
 
 'They bellow one to the other, the frighted ship- 
 bells toll, 
 
 'For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud 
 with my breath, 
 
 'And they see strange bows above them and the 
 two go locked to death. 
 
 'But whether in calm or wrack-wreath, whether by 
 
 dark or day, 
 'I heave them whole to the conger or rip their 
 
 plates away, 
 'First of the scattered legions, under a shrieking sky, 
 'Dipping between the rollers, the English Flag goes 
 
 by. 
 
 'The dead dumb fog hath wrapped it — the frozen 
 
 dews have kissed — 
 'The naked stars have seen it, a fellow-star in the 
 
 mist. 
 'What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my 
 
 breath to dare, 
 *Ye have but my waves to conquer. Go forth, for it 
 
 is there ! ' 
 
BBUHn 
 
 ^1 
 
 I the 
 my 
 r it 
 
 'CLEARED ' 
 (in memory of a commission) 
 
 Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit 
 
 hurt, 
 Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the 
 
 dirt! 
 From Queenstown Bay to Donegal, O listen to my 
 
 song, 
 The honourable gentlemen have suffered grievous 
 
 wrong. 
 
 Their noble names were mentioned — O the burning 
 black disgrace ! — 
 
 By a brutal Saxon paper in an Irish shooting- 
 case; 
 
 They sat upon it for a year, then steeled their heart 
 to brave it. 
 
 And 'coruscating innocence ' the learned Judges 
 gave it. 
 
 117 
 
 ;i J 
 
 i 
 
 
 fS ' 
 
 
 1 
 1 • 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 ( 
 
118 
 
 'CLEARED* 
 
 Bear witness, Heaven, of that grim crime heneath 
 
 the surgeon's knife, 
 The honourable gentleman deplored the loss of 
 
 life; 
 Bear witness of those chanting choirs that burk and 
 
 shirk and snigger. 
 No man laid hand upon the knife or finger to the 
 
 trigger ! 
 
 ' 
 
 
 Cleared in the face of all mankind beneath the 
 
 winking skies. 
 Like phoenixes from Phcenix Park (and what lay 
 
 there) they rise ! 
 Go shout it to the emerald seas — give word to Erin 
 
 now, 
 Her honourable gentlemen are cleared — and this 
 
 is how : — 
 
 They only paid the Moonlighter his cattle-hocking 
 
 pricCj 
 They only helped the murderer with council's best 
 
 advice, 
 
'CLEARED' 
 
 119 
 
 But — sure it keeps their honour white — the learned 
 
 Court believes 
 They never gave a piece of plate to murderers and 
 
 thieves. 
 
 They never told the ramping crowd to card a 
 
 woman's hide, 
 They never marked a man for death — what fault of 
 
 theirs he died? — 
 They only said 'intimidate,' and talked and went 
 
 away — 
 By God, the boys that did the work were braver 
 
 men than they ! 
 
 1 ' 
 
 Hi; 
 
 g 
 
 Their sin it was that fed the fire— small blame to 
 
 them that heard — 
 The 'bhoys' get drunk on rhetoric, and madden 
 
 at the word — 
 They knew whom they were talking at, if they 
 
 werr^ Irish too, 
 The gentlemen that lied in Court, they knew and 
 
 well they knew. 
 
 a 
 
120 
 
 CLEARED 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 r 
 
 'i 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 They only took the Judas-gold from Fenians out of 
 
 jail, 
 They only fawned for dollars on the blood-dyed 
 
 Clan-na-Gael. 
 ""^ /lack is black or white is white, in black and 
 
 white it's down, 
 They're only traitors to the Queen and rebels to 
 
 the Crown. 
 
 'Cleared,' honourable gentlemen. Be thankful it's 
 
 no more : 
 
 The widow's curse is on your house, the dead are 
 
 at your door. 
 On you the shame of open shame, on you from 
 
 North to South 
 The hand of every honest man flat-heeled across 
 
 your mouth. 
 
 'Less black than we were painted'? — Faith, no 
 
 word of black was said ; 
 The lightest touch was human blood, and that, ye 
 
 know, runs red. 
 
 |j\ 
 
'CLEARED* 
 
 121 
 
 It's sticking to your fist to-day for all your sneer 
 
 and scoff, 
 And by the Judge's well-weighed word you cannot 
 
 wipe it off. 
 
 r^ 
 
 
 ii 
 
 V \ 
 
 Hold up those hands of innocence — go, scare your 
 
 sheep together, 
 The blunderir». tripping tups that bleat behind the 
 
 old bell-wether; 
 And if they snuff the taint and break to find 
 
 another pen, 
 Tell them it's tar that glistens so, and daub them 
 
 yours again 1 
 
 *The charge is old ' ? — As old as Cain — as fresh as 
 
 yesterday; 
 Old as the Ten Commandments, have ye talked 
 
 those laws away? 
 If words are words, or death is death, or powder 
 
 sends the ball. 
 You spoke the words that sped the shot — the curse 
 
 be on you all. 
 
 I > 
 
 ^M 
 
 1 i 
 
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 J, 
 
 
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122 
 
 * CLEARED' 
 
 'Our friends believe'? Of course they do — as 
 
 sheltered women may; 
 But have they seen the shrieking soul ripped from 
 
 the quivering clay? 
 They! — If their own front door is shut, they'll 
 
 swear the whole world's warm; 
 What do they know of dread of death or hanging 
 
 fear of harm? 
 
 The secret half a county keeps, the whisper in the 
 
 lane, 
 The shriek that tells the shot went home behind 
 
 the broken pane. 
 The dry blood crisping in the sun that scares the 
 
 honest bees, 
 And shows the 'bhoys ' have heard your talk — what 
 
 do they know of these ? 
 
 But you — you know — ay, ten times more; the 
 
 secrets of the dead, 
 Black terror on the country-side by word and 
 
 whisper bred, 
 
CLEARED' 
 
 123 
 
 The mangled stallion's scream at night, the tail- 
 cropped heifer's low. 
 
 Who set the whisper going first? You know, and 
 well you know ! 
 
 My soul! I'd sooner lie in jail for murder plain 
 
 and straight, 
 Pure crime I'd done with my own hand for money, 
 
 lust, or hate, 
 Than take a seat in Parliament by fellow-felons 
 
 cheered, 
 While one of those 'not provens ' proved me cleared 
 
 as you are cleared. 
 
 4' 
 
 :< k 
 
 1 I 
 
 Cleared — you that 'lost' the League accounts — go, 
 
 guard our honour still. 
 Go, help to make our country's laws that broke 
 
 God's law at will — 
 One hand stuck out behind the back, to signal 
 
 'strike again '; 
 The other on your dress-shirt-front to show your 
 
 heart is clanr-. 
 
 In 
 
 i 
 
I 
 
 124 
 
 CLEARED' 
 
 If black is black or white is white, in black and 
 
 white it's down, 
 You're only traitors to the Queen and rebels to the 
 
 Crown. 
 If print is print or words are words, the learned 
 
 Court perpends : 
 We are not ruled by murderers, but only — by their 
 
 friends. 
 
 
 i-g^yyy-r L ■ !i " jiu»j-^ 11 ■ muj 'i . N i 
 
125 
 
 F 
 
 Ml 
 
 . Ai 
 
 AN IMPERIAL RESCRIPT 
 
 The Lords of Their Mo«^ 
 
 some were black fro,n the furnace anH 
 were brown from the soil ' ^ """^ 
 
 »me were blue from the dye-vaf but .M 
 wearied of toil. ' "^''^ 
 
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 Balti 
 
 And 
 
 And 
 
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 - i I. 
 
 -4 
 
12G 
 
 AN IMPERIAL RESCRIPT 
 
 II 
 
 
 And the young King said 'I have found it, the 
 
 road to the rest ye seek 
 'The strong shall wait for the weary, the hale shall 
 
 halt for the weak; 
 'With the even tramp of an army where no man 
 
 breaks from the line, 
 *Ye shall march to peace and plenty in the bond oli 
 
 brotherhood — sign ! ' 
 
 The paper lay on the table, the strong heads bowed 
 
 thereby, 
 And a wail went up from the peoples: *Ay, sign — 
 
 give rest, for we die ! ' 
 A hand was stretched to the goose-quill, a fist was 
 
 cramped to scrawl. 
 When — the laugh of a blue-eyed maiden ran clear 
 
 through the council-hall. 
 
 And each one heard Her laughing as each one saw 
 
 Her plain — 
 Saidie, Mimi, or Olga, Gretchen, or Mary Jane. 
 And the Spirit of Man that is in Him to the light 
 
 of the vision woke; 
 And the men drew back from the paper, as a 
 
 Yankee delegate spoke : — 
 
""% 
 
 AN IMPERIAL RESCRIPT 
 
 127 
 
 iw 
 
 ht 
 
 'There's a girl in Jersey City who works on the 
 
 telephone; 
 'We're going to hitch our horses and dig for a 
 
 house of our own, 
 'With gas and water connections, and steam-heat 
 
 through to the top; 
 'And,W. Hoheiizollern,! guess I shall work till I drop.' 
 
 And an English delegate thundered: 'The weak 
 
 an' the lame be blowed ! 
 'I've a berth in the Sou'-West workshops, a home 
 
 in the Wandsworth Road; 
 'And till the 'sociation has footed my buryin' bill, 
 'I work for the kids an' the missus. Pull up! I'll 
 
 be damned if I will ! * 
 
 And over the German benches the bearded whisper 
 
 ran: — 
 'Lager, der girls und der dollars, dey makes or dey 
 
 breaks a man. 
 'If Schmitt haf collared der dollars, he collars der 
 
 girl deremit; 
 'But if Schmitt bust in der pizness, we collars der 
 
 girl from Schmitt.' 
 
 Ill 
 
 ■ 
 
 f 
 
 h 
 i 
 
 i '■ '^ 
 
 ill 
 
 i! 
 
128 
 
 AN IMPERIAL RESCRIPT 
 
 \f 
 
 They passed one resolution: 'Your sub-committee 
 
 believe 
 *You can lighten the curse of Adam when you've 
 
 lightened the curse of Eve. 
 *But till we are built like angels — with hammer and 
 
 chisel and pen, 
 *V/e will work for ourself and a woman, for ever and 
 
 ever. Amen.* 
 
 Now this is the tale of the Council the German 
 
 Kaiser held — 
 The day that they razored the Grindstone, the 
 
 day that the Cat was belled. 
 The day of the Figs from Thistles, the day of the 
 
 Twisted Sands, 
 The day that the laugh of a maiden made light of 
 
 the Lords of Their Hands. 
 
. 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 tl 
 
 i 
 
 Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost in his house in 
 
 Berkeley Square, 
 And a Spirit came to his bedside and gripped him 
 
 by the hair — 
 A Spirit gripped him by the hair and carried him 
 
 far away, 
 Till he heard as the roar of a rain-icd ford the roar 
 
 of the Milky Way, 
 Till he heard the roar of the Milky Way die down 
 
 and drone and cease, 
 And they came to the Gate within the Wall where 
 
 Peter holds the keys. 
 *Stand up, stand up now, Tomlinson, and answer 
 
 loud and high 
 *The good that ye did for the sake of men or ever 
 
 ye came to die — 
 *The good that ye did for the sake of men in little 
 
 earth so lone ! ' 
 
 X 120 
 
 II* 
 
 i : 
 
 [(> 
 
 it! 
 
I 
 
 It 
 
 j 
 
 130 
 
 TOM LIN SON 
 
 And the naked soul of Tomlinson grew white as 
 
 a rain-washed bone. 
 *0, I have a friend on earth,' he said, 'that was 
 
 my priest and guide, 
 'And well would he answer all for me if he were by 
 
 my side.' 
 — 'For that ye strove in neighbour-love it shall be 
 
 written fair, 
 'But now ye wait at Heaven's Gate and not in 
 
 Berkeley Square : 
 'Though we called your friend from his bed this 
 
 night, he could not speak for you, 
 'For the race is run by one and one and never by 
 
 two and two.' 
 Then Tomlinson looked up and down, and little 
 
 gain was there. 
 For the naked stars grinned overhead, and he saw 
 
 that his soul was bare : 
 The Wind that blows between the worlds, it cut 
 
 him like a knife. 
 And Tomlinson took up his tale and spoke of his 
 
 good in life. 
 'This I have read in a book,' he said, 'and that was 
 
 told to me, 
 
131 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 The good souls flocked like h„ • 
 
 bade him clear .he path "' '"^" »'' 
 
 'Ye have read, ye have heard, ye have t. u 
 
 By the ,vord> of the body .hat once ye had ■ 
 a„s,ver-what ha' ye done ^ ' ^'"^' ^"' 
 
 Then Tomlinson looked back and forth , ,- 
 
 good i. bore, *' ""'1 little 
 
 For the DarknesI staved ■,, u- ,_ 
 
 Heaven's Gate blre '^''"'"'^-'"■■'de and 
 
 'Oh, this I have felt, and th's I l. 
 , -'his i have heard Jly"^ «""-<'• -d 
 ^«d this they wrote th.. \ 
 
 carl in NorZy . """''^^ ■"- -ote of a 
 'Ve have read, ye have felt ve hn 
 
 '^^■^ •• Ve have hampertl H '"""'' ''^ 
 
 •T'-ere-s little roon, be.™!::: :":r^ ^ 
 
 prate] ^^^^ ^" idleness to 
 
132 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 ^Through borrowed deed to God's good meed that 
 
 lies so fair within; 
 *Get hence, get hence to the Lord of Wrong, for 
 
 doom has yet to run, 
 'And . . . the faith that ye share with Berkeley 
 
 Square uphold you, Tomlinson ! ' 
 
 
 The Spirit gripped him by the hair, and sun by sun 
 
 they fell 
 Till they came to the belt of Naughty Stars that 
 
 rim the mouth of Hell : 
 The first are red with pride and wrath, the next are 
 
 white with pain, 
 But the third are black with clinkered sin that 
 
 cannot burn again : 
 They may hold their path, they may leave their 
 
 path, with never a soul to mark. 
 They may burn or freeze, but they must not cease 
 * in the Scorn of the Outer Dark. 
 The Wind that blows between the worlds, it nippeJ 
 
 him to the bone. 
 And he yearned to the flare of Hell-gate there as 
 
 the light of his own hearth-stone. 
 
 
 s?.vi'.-a;ttaiatgag- 
 
TOMLINSON 
 
 133 
 
 The Devil he sat behind the bars, where then 
 
 legions drew ^ ""^ desperate 
 
 "ttr;h:"r"--'---d„. 
 ,'"'parp.tidt^°'--^'---t.„„3t 
 
 'That ye rank yoursel' so fit for u „ 
 
 leave of me? ''^ ^°' ^^" ^nd ask no 
 
 '' '"^. ^" °'^-«ib to Adam's breed that . 
 
 give me scorn ^ ^'^ '^^"Id 
 
 '''::ni;'"'^— ^-'--answer iond 
 
 'The harm that ye did to the Sons of M. 
 
 you came to die.' " °'' «^" 
 
 And Tomlinson looked up and ,,n ^ 
 
 the night '^' ^"'^ ^aw against 
 
 The belly of a tortured star h, , 
 
 Mouth light. ""''"•"'^ '■" Hell- 
 
 ''^M:rhe:;'°""^''^'-----nHei,. 
 
 
 ,' i 
 
134 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 : 
 
 *0h, I had a love on earth,' said he, 'that kissed 
 
 me to my fall, 
 'And if ye would call my love to me I know she 
 
 would answer all. ' 
 — 'All that ye did in love forbid it shall be written 
 
 fair, 
 'But now ye wait at Hell-Mouth Gate and not in 
 
 Berkeley Square : 
 'Though we whistled your love from her bed to-night, 
 
 I trow she would not run, 
 'For the sin ye do by two and two ye must pay for 
 
 one by one ! ' 
 The Wind that blows between the worlds, it cut him 
 
 like a knife, 
 And Tomlinson took up the tale and spoke of his 
 
 sin in life: 
 'Once I ha' laughed at the power of I^ove and twice 
 
 at the grip of the Grave, 
 'And thrice I ha' patted my God on the head that 
 
 men might call me brave.' 
 The Devil he blew on a brandered soul and set it 
 
 aside to cool : • 
 
 'Do ye think I would waste my good pit-coal on the 
 
 hide of a brain-sick fool ? 
 
TOMLINSON 
 
 135 
 
 *I see no worth in the hobnailed mirth or the jolt- 
 head jest ye did 
 
 *That I should waken my gentlemen that are sleep- 
 ing three on a grid. ' 
 
 Then Tomlinson looked back and forth, and there 
 was little grace, 
 
 For Hell-Gate filled the houseless Soul with the 
 Fear of Naked Space. 
 
 *Nay, this I ha' heard,' quo' Tomlinson, 'and this 
 was noised abroad, 
 
 *And this I ha' got from a Belgian book on the word 
 of a dead French lord. ' 
 
 — 'Ye ha' heard, ye ha' read, ye ha' got, good lack ! 
 And the tale begins afresh — 
 
 'Have ye sinned one sin for the pride o' the eye or 
 the sinful lust of the flesh? ' 
 
 Then Tomlinson he gripped the bars and yammered 
 'Let me in — 
 
 'For I mind that I borrowed my neighbour's wife to 
 sin the deadly sin.' 
 
 The Devil he grinned behind the bars, and banked 
 the fires high : 
 
 'Did ye read of that sin in a book?' said he; and 
 Tomlinson said 'Ay! * 
 
 ii 
 
 i'« 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
196 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 
 The Devil he blew upon his nails, and the little 
 
 devils ran; 
 And he said, 'Go husk this whimpering thief that 
 
 comes in the guise of a man : 
 'Winnow him out 'twixt star and star, and sieve his 
 
 proper worth : 
 'There's sore decline in Adam's line if this be spawn 
 
 of earth.' 
 Empusa's crew, so naked-new they may not face the 
 
 fire. 
 But weep that they bin too small to sin to the height 
 
 of their desire. 
 Over the coal they chased the Soul, and racked it 
 
 all abroad. 
 As children rifle a caddis-case or the raven's foolish 
 
 hoard. 
 And back they came with the tattered Thing, as 
 
 children after play. 
 And they said: 'The soul that he got from God he 
 
 has bartered clean away. 
 'We have threshed a stook of print and book, and 
 
 winnowed a chattering wind 
 'And many a soul wherefrom he stole, but his we 
 
 cannot find : 
 
 I:' 
 
%w- 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 187 
 
 'We have handled hi™, „e have dandled hi 
 
 have seared him to the bone '"' "' 
 
 And sure if tooth and nail show truth he h 
 
 of his own. ■ ^ ''^ ^^ no soul 
 
 I'he Devil he bowed hi.= h» ^ 
 
 -^'ed deep and W-!^'°"'"'^'^'-'-<^ 
 'I'm all o'er-sib to Adam's breed that , 
 
 him go. '™' I Should bid 
 
 'Vet close we lie, and deep ve lie ,„^ v r 
 
 place, "^ "^' """J 'f I gave him 
 
 'My gentlemen that a» „„ 
 
 my face; " "'"'"' '^""'^ «out me to 
 
 ''tlr hZt "-""^^ ^ ~" -- - me a 
 
 '"7:sirs::Cr--'-nforthesa.e 
 The Devil he looked at the . - , . 
 
 P-yed to feel the flame "" '°"' "^^ 
 And he thought of Holy Charitv h . . , 
 
 his own good name ''"'"''°''^'«'" 
 
 'Now ye could haste my coal tn 
 
 down to try: '° *"''^' ^"^ ^it ye 
 
 'Did ye think of that fh»ft , 
 
 andTomllnsonsLiXJ"'""^"^'^^'''''^^ 
 
 f! ; i 
 
 
 '• I 
 
 ■ I 
 
 1:1 
 
138 
 
 TOMLINSON 
 
 The Devil he blew an outward breath, for his heart 
 
 was free from care : 
 *Ye have scarce the soul of a louse,' he said, 'but 
 
 the roots of sin are there, 
 *And for that sin should ye come in were I the lord 
 
 alone. 
 *But sinful pride has rule inside — and mightier than 
 
 my own. 
 * Honour and Wit, fore-damned they sit, to each his 
 
 priest and whore : 
 *Nay, scarce I dare myself go there, and you they'd 
 
 torture sore. 
 *Ye are neither spirit nor spirk,' he said; 'ye are 
 
 neither book nor brute — 
 'Go, get ye back to the flesh again for the s?ke of 
 
 Man's repute. 
 'I'm all o'er-sib to Adam's breed that I should mock 
 
 your pain, 
 'But look that ye win to worthier sin ere ye come 
 
 back again. 
 'Get hence, the hearse is at your door — the grim 
 
 black stallions wait — 
 'They bear your clay to place to-day. Speed, lest 
 
 ye come too late ! 
 
TOMLINSON 
 
 ^o back to Earth with a Ifn 
 
 ^ith an open eye ^ ""«eaIed-go back 
 
 'And carry n.y word t; the Sons of Men or 
 
 come to die : °'^ ^^^ ye 
 
 'That the sin they do by two and . . 
 
 for one by one- "'° "^'^ ™«« P^r 
 
 'And . . . ti,e God that you took f 
 
 book be With you, ro:,iL:::':'"'"^p"-ed 
 
 ¥ 
 
 are 
 
 (): 
 
 n f 
 
 ^ irn "I 
 
 'I 
 
 
BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 II . r 
 
 
 i; 
 
To T. A. 
 
 ,'i ' 
 
 
 I have made for you a song, 
 And it may be right or wrong, 
 
 Bui only you can tell me i/ifs true; 
 I have tried for to explain 
 Both your pleasure and your pain, 
 
 And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you ! 
 Oh, there'll surely come a day 
 When theyUl grant you all your pay, 
 
 And treat you as a Christian ought to do ; 
 I So, until that day comes round, 
 Heaven keep you safe and sound, 
 
 And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you. 
 
 ' ) 
 
 . I 
 
 R. K. 
 
 ^.U.i 
 
DANNY DEEVER 
 
 f '1 
 a, 
 
 'What are the bugles blowin' for?' said Files-on- 
 
 Parade. 
 *To turn you out, to turn you out,' the Colour- 
 Sergeant said. 
 ' What makes you look so white, so white ? ' said 
 
 Files-on-Parade. 
 * I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch,' the Colour- 
 Sergeant said. 
 
 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'. 
 
 143 
 
 ! I '1. 
 
144 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 ti 
 
 *What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?' said 
 Files-on-Parade. 
 
 'It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold,' the Colour- 
 Sergeant said. 
 
 'What makesj that front-rank man fall down?' says 
 Files-on-Parade. 
 
 * A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun,' the Colour-Sergeant 
 
 said. 
 
 They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are 
 
 marchin' of 'im round. 
 They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin 
 
 on the ground ; 
 An' 'e'U swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' 
 
 shootin' hound — 
 O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the 
 
 mornin' ! 
 
 * 'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine,' said Files-on- 
 
 Parade. 
 
 * 'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night,' the Colour- 
 
 Sergeant said. 
 'I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times,' said Files-on- 
 Parade. 
 
 * 'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone,' the Colour- Sergeant 
 
 said. 
 
DANNY DEEVER 
 
 145 
 
 They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must 
 
 mark 'im to 'is place, 
 For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' — you must 
 
 look 'im in the face; 
 Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's 
 
 disgrace, 
 While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the 
 
 mornin'. 
 
 )ur- 
 
 -on- 
 
 laiit 
 
 'What's that so black agin the sun?' said Files-on- 
 
 Parade. 
 *It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life,' the Colour- 
 Sergeant said. 
 'What's that that whimpers over'ead?' said Files- 
 
 on-Parade. 
 'It's Danny's soul that's passin' now,' the Colour- 
 Sergeant said. 
 
 For they're done with Danny Deever, you 
 
 can 'ear the quickstep play, 
 The regiment's in column, an' they're 
 
 marchin' us away; 
 Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' 
 
 they'll want their beer to-day, 
 After hangin' Danny Deever in the 
 mornin'. 
 
 K 
 
 k 'I 
 
 I 
 
it 
 
 TOMMY 
 
 !l 
 
 I 
 
 I WENT into a public- 'oiise to get a pint o' beer, 
 Tiie public-n 'e up an' sez, *We serve no red-coals 
 
 iiere.' 
 The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled 
 
 fit to die, 
 I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I : 
 
 O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 
 
 'Tommy, go away ' ; 
 But it's 'Thank you. Mister Atkins,* when 
 
 the band begins to play. 
 The band begins to play, my boys, the band 
 
 begins to play, 
 O it's 'Thank you. Mister Atkins,' when the 
 
 band begins to play. 
 
 I went into a theatre as sober as could be. 
 They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none 
 for me ; 
 140 
 
 10mmm$ioii' ' ' i -!<•» 
 
TOMMY 
 
 147 
 
 They sent me to the gallery or round the music- 'alls, 
 But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove 
 me in the stalls ! 
 
 «**i 
 
 'i; 
 
 For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 
 
 'Tommy, wait outside ' ; 
 But it's 'Special train for Atkins' when the 
 
 trooper's on the tide, 
 The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the 
 
 troopship's on the tide, 
 O it's 'Special train lor Atkins' when the 
 
 trooper's on the tide. 
 
 i\ 
 
 an' 
 vhen 
 and 
 the 
 
 Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while 
 you sleep 
 
 Is cheaper than then^ uniforms, an' they're starva- 
 tion cheap ; 
 
 An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' 
 large a bit 
 
 Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit. 
 
 lone 
 
 Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, 
 
 an' 'Tommy, 'ow's yer soul? ' 
 But it's 'Thin red line of 'eroes' when the 
 
 drums begin to roll, 
 
 \i 
 
r 
 
 148 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 
 The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums 
 
 
 begin to roll, 
 
 
 it's 'Thin red line of 'eroes ' when the 
 
 
 drums begin to roll. 
 
 We 
 
 aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no black- 
 
 
 guards too. 
 
 But 
 
 single men in barricks, most remarkable like 
 
 
 you; 
 
 An' 
 
 if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy 
 
 paints : 
 Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster 
 saints; 
 
 While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 
 
 *Tommy, fall be'ind,' 
 But it's 'Please to walk in front, sir,' when 
 
 there's trouble in the wind, 
 There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's 
 
 trouble in the wind, 
 O it's 'Please to walk in front, sir,' when 
 
 there's trouble in the wind. 
 
 You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, 
 
 an' all: 
 We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational. 
 
 ■i -wf 
 
TOMMY 
 
 149 
 
 Don't 
 
 mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it 
 to our face 
 The Widow's Uniform h 
 grace. 
 
 is not the soldier-man's dis- 
 
 For U's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 
 
 'Chuck him out, the brute ! ' 
 But it's 'Saviour of 'is country,' when the 
 
 guns begin to shoot; 
 Yes it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 
 
 anything you please j 
 But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool— you bet 
 
 that Tommy sees ! 
 
 l! 
 
 m 
 
 u 
 

 'FUZZY-VVUZZY' 
 
 (sOUDAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE) 
 
 We've fought with many men acrost the seas, 
 
 An* some of 'em was brave an' some was not 
 The Pay than an' the Zulu an' Burmese; 
 
 But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot. 
 We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im: 
 
 'E squatted in the scrub an' 'ocked our 'orses, 
 'E cut our sentries up at SuaJ:tm, r 
 
 An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces. 
 
 So 'ere's /o you, Fuzzy- Wuzzy, at your 'ome 
 in the Soudan; 
 
 You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first- 
 class fightin' man; 
 
 We gives you your certificate, an' if you want 
 it signed 
 
 We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you when- 
 ever you're inclined. 
 
 160 
 
 "•TSOsrisSiamHtli 
 
1 
 
 * FUZZY-WUZZY ' 
 
 151 
 
 We took our chanst among the Kyber 'ills, 
 
 The Boers knocked us silly at a mile, 
 The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills, 
 
 An' a Zulu impi dished us up in style : 
 But all we evp.r got from such as they 
 
 Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller ; 
 We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say. 
 But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oiler. 
 
 Then 'ero's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the 
 
 missis and the kid; 
 Our orders was to break you, an' of course 
 
 we went an' did. 
 We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't 
 
 'ardly fair; 
 But for all the odds agin' you, Fuzzy-Wuz 
 you broke the square. 
 
 ^\ 
 
 'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own, 
 
 'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards, 
 So v/e must certify the skill 'e's shown 
 
 In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords: 
 When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush 
 
 With 'is cofifin-'eaded shield an' shovel-spear, 
 An 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush 
 
 Will last an 'ealthy Tommy for a year. 
 
 ' 
 
 ,M 
 
152 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' your 
 
 friends which are no more, 
 If wc 'adn't lost some messmates we would 
 
 'clp you to deplore; 
 But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call 
 
 the bargain fair, 
 For if you 'ave lost more than us, you 
 
 crumi)led 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! 
 
 'F2's a injia- rubber idiot on the spree, 
 'l^'s the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn 
 I'or a Regiment o' British Infantree ! 
 
 So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome 
 
 in the Soudan; 
 You're a pore benighted 'cathen but a first- 
 
 clnss fightin' man; 
 An' 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 
 
 'ayrick 'ead of 'air — 
 You big black boundin' beggar — for you broke 
 a British square ! 
 
SOLDIER, SOLDIER 
 
 i 
 
 
 you 
 
 *SoLDiF.R, soldier, come from the wars, 
 Why don't you march with my true love? ' 
 'We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give 
 the slip. 
 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 New love ! True love ! 
 
 Best go look for a new love. 
 
 The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better 
 
 dry your eyes. 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love. 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars. 
 
 What did you see o' my true love? ' 
 
 'I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rinc-green. 
 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, con-,e from the wars, 
 Did ye see no moie o' my true love?' 
 
 153 
 
 li; 
 
154 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 *I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly- 
 But you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 |f 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars, 
 
 Did aught take 'arm to my true love?' 
 
 *I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so 
 
 white — 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars, 
 
 I'll up an' tend to my true love ! ' 
 
 "E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'cad, 
 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars, 
 I'll down an' die with my true love ! ' 
 'The pit we dug'U 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 
 
 'im — 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars. 
 Do you bring no sign from my true love?' 
 *1 bring a lock of 'air that 'e alius used to wear, 
 An' you'd best go look for a new love.' 
 
 11 
 
SOLDIER, SOLDIER 
 
 155 
 
 'Soldier, soldier, come from the wars, 
 
 O then I know it's true I've lost my true love ! ' 
 
 'An' I tell you truth again— when you've lost the 
 
 feel o' pain 
 You'd best take me for your true love.' 
 
 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. 
 
 'N 
 
it I 
 
 < , I 
 
 jj: 
 
 
 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 ! 
 
 So when we call round with a few guns, o' 
 course you will know what to do — hoo! 
 hoo! 
 
 Jest send in your Chief nn' surrender — it's 
 worse if you fights or you runs: 
 
 You can go where you plense, you can skid 
 up the trees, but you don't get away 
 from the guns. 
 
 156 
 
 I 
 
SCREW-GUNS 
 
 157 
 
 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 r.t two thousand, we guns 
 
 that are built in two bits — 'Tss ! 'Tss ! 
 For you all love the screw-guns, etc. 
 
 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. 
 D'you say that you sweat with the field-guns? By 
 
 God, you must lather with us — 'Tss ! 'Tss ! 
 For you all love the screw-guns, etc. 
 
 , n 
 
 The eagles is screamin' around us, the live 's a- 
 
 moanin' below. 
 We're clear o' the pine an' the oak-scrub, we're out 
 
 on the rocks an' the snow, 
 
158 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 I i 
 
 u 
 
 I! 
 
 I 
 
 1.1 
 
 !•■ 
 
 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! 'Tss! 
 
 For you all love the screw-guns, etc. 
 
 There's a wheel on the Horns o' the Mornin', an' a 
 
 wheel on the edge o' the Pit, 
 An' a drop into nothin' beneath you as straight as a 
 
 beggar can spit : 
 With the sweat runnin' out o' your shirt-sleeves, an' 
 
 the sun off the snow in your face, 
 An' 'arf o' the men on the drag-ropes to hold the 
 
 old gun in 'er place — 'Tss ! 'Tss ! 
 For you all love the screw-guns, etc. 
 
 Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the 
 mornin' cool, 
 
 I climbs in my old brown gaiters along o' my old 
 brown mule. 
 
 The monkey can say what our road was — the wild- 
 goat 'e knows where we passed. 
 
 Stand easy, you long-eared old darlin's! Out drag- 
 ropes! With shrapnel ! Hold fast— 'Tss ! 'Tss! 
 
SCREW-GUNS 
 
 159 
 
 For you all love the screw-guns-the screw- 
 guns they all Icve you! 
 
 So when we take tea with a few guns, o' 
 course you will know what to do— hoo! 
 hoo! 
 
 Just send in your Chief and 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 1 
 
CELLS 
 
 I've a head like a concertina: I've a tongue like a 
 
 button-stick : 
 I've a mouth like an old potato, and I'm more than 
 
 a little sick, 
 But I've had my fun o' the Corp'ral's Guard: I've 
 
 made the cinders fly, 
 And I'm here in the Clink for a thundering drink 
 
 and blacking the Corporal's eye. 
 
 With a second-hand overcoat under my head, 
 And a beautiful view of the yard, 
 Oh, it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B. 
 For 'drunk and resisting the Guard! ' 
 Mad drunk and resisting the Guard — 
 'Strewth, but I socked it them hard! 
 So it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B. 
 For 'drunk and resisting the Guard.' 
 
 160 Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
CELLS 
 
 161 
 
 I started o* canteen porter, I finished o' canteen 
 
 beer, 
 But a dose o' gin that a mate slipped in, it was that 
 
 brought me here. 
 'Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed 
 
 my nose in the dirt; 
 But I fell away with the Corp'ral's stock and the 
 
 best of the Corp'ral's shirt. 
 
 I left my cap in a public-house, my boots in the 
 
 public road, 
 And Lord knows where, and I don't care, my belt 
 
 and my tunic goed. 
 They'll stop my pay, they'll cut away the stripes I 
 
 used to wear. 
 But I left my mark on the Corp'ral's face, and I 
 
 think he'll keep it there ! 
 
 ^ t 
 
 1 s 
 
 My wife she cries on the barrack-gate, my kid in 
 
 the barrack-yard. 
 It ain't that I mind the Ord'ly room — it's ///a/ that 
 
 cuts so hard. 
 
! I 
 
 V * 
 
 ) 
 
 
 162 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 I'll take my oath before them both that I will sure 
 
 abstain, 
 But as soon as I'm in with a mate and gin, I know 
 
 I'll do it again! 
 
 With a second-hand overcoat under my head 
 And a beautiful view of the yard. 
 Yes, it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B. 
 For 'drunk and resisting the Guard.' 
 Mad drunk and resisting the Guard — 
 'Strevvth, but I socked it them hard ! 
 So it's pack-drill with me and a fortnight's C.B. 
 For 'drunk and resisting the Guard.' 
 
 
GUNGA DIN 
 
 You may talk o' gin and beer 
 
 When you're quartered safe out 'ere, 
 
 An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it; 
 
 But when it comes to slaughter 
 
 You will do your work on water, 
 
 An' you'll lick the bloomin' boot?: of 'im that's got it, 
 
 Now in Injia's sunny clime, 
 
 Where I used to spend my time 
 
 A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen, 
 
 Of all them blackfaced crew 
 
 The finest man I knew 
 
 Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din. 
 
 He was 'Din! Din! Din! 
 
 You limping lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din! 
 
 Hi ! slippery hitherao ! 
 
 Water, get it ! Panee lao ! ^ 
 
 You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.' 
 
 The uniform 'e wore 
 Was nothin' much before, 
 
 1 Bring water swiftly. 
 
 163 
 
 ii 
 
 ■f It. 
 
1U4 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 i I 
 
 An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind, 
 
 For a piece o' twisty rag 
 
 An' a goatskin water-bag 
 
 Was all the field-equipment *e could find. 
 
 When the sweatin' troop-train lay 
 
 In a sidin' through the day, 
 
 Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows 
 
 crawl. 
 We shouted 'Harry Ey!'i 
 Till our throats were bricky-dry, 
 Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all. 
 
 It was 'Din! Din! Din! 
 
 You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you 
 been? 
 
 You put some juldee ^ in it 
 
 Or I'll marrow you this minute ' 
 
 If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din ! 
 
 ^E would dot an' carry one 
 
 Till the longest day was done; 
 An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear. 
 
 If we charged or broke or cut, 
 
 You could bet your bloomin' nut, 
 'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear. 
 
 1 Mr. Atkins' equivalent for ' O brother.' 
 3 Be quick. ^ Hit you. 
 
GUNGA DIN 
 
 165 
 
 With 'is mussick^ on 'is back, 
 'E would skip with our attack, 
 An' watch us till the bugles made 'Retire,* 
 An' for all 'is dirty 'ide 
 'E was white, clear white, i:iside 
 When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire ! 
 It was 'Din! Din! Din!' 
 With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green. 
 When the cartridges ran out, 
 You could hear the front-files shout, 
 'Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!' 
 
 I sha'n't forgit the night 
 
 When I dropped be'ind the fight 
 
 With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been. 
 I was chokin' mad with thirst. 
 An' the man that spied me first 
 
 Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din. 
 'E lifted up my 'ead. 
 An' he plugged mc where I bled, 
 
 An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water-green : 
 It was crawlin' and it stunk. 
 But of all the drinks I've drunk, 
 
 I'm gratefuUest to one from Gunga Din. 
 
 1 Water skin. 
 
 
I ^ 
 
 ■ 
 \ i 
 
 166 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 It was 'Din! Din! Din!' 
 'Ere's a beggar witli a bullet through 'is spleen; 
 
 'E's chawin' up the ground, 
 
 An' 'e's kickin' all around: 
 For Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din! 
 
 
 'J 
 
 ' I 
 
 'E carried me away 
 To where a dooli lay. 
 An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean. 
 'E put me safe inside, 
 An' just before 'e died : 
 *I 'ope you liked your drink,' sez Gunga Din. 
 So I'll meet 'im later on 
 At the place where 'e is gone — 
 Where it's always double drill and no canteen; 
 'Ji^'ll be squattin' on the coals, 
 Givin' drink to ])oor damned souls. 
 An' I'll get a swig in hell from Guaga Din! 
 Yes, Din! Din! Din! 
 You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din! 
 
 Though I've belted you and flayed you, 
 By the living Gawd that made you. 
 You're a better man than 1 am, Gunga Din ! 
 
 I 
 
i 
 
 OONTS 
 
 (northern INDIA TRANSPORT TRAIN) 
 
 Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 
 
 him to perspire? 
 It isn't standin' up to charge nor lyin' down to fire; 
 But it's everlastin' waitin' on a everlastin' road 
 For the commissariat camel an' 'is commissariat load. 
 O the oont/ () the oont, O the commissariat 
 oont ! 
 With 'is silly neck a-bobbin' like a basket 
 full o' snakes; 
 We packs 'irn like an idol, an' you ought to 
 'ear 'im grunt, 
 An' when we gets 'im loaded up 'is blessed 
 girth-rope breaks. 
 
 Wot makes the rear-guard swear so 'ard when night 
 
 is drorin' in, 
 An' every native follower is shiverin' for 'is skin? 
 
 1 Camel— 00 is pronounced like « in ' bull,' hut by Mr. Atkins to 
 
 rhyme with ' front.* 
 
 107 
 
I \ 
 
 168 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 \ 
 
 
 I 
 
 It ain't the chanst o' being rushed by Paythans from 
 
 the 'ills, 
 It's the commissariat camel puttin' on 'is bloomin' 
 frills! 
 O the oont, O the oont, O the hairy scary 
 oont! 
 A-trippin' over tent-ropes when we've got 
 the night alarm ! 
 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, C) the oont, O the Gawd-forsaken 
 oont ! 
 The lumpy-'umpy 'ummin'-bird a-singin' 
 where 'e lies, 
 
OONTS 
 
 169 
 
 
 '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 ! 
 
 E'll gall an' chafe an' lame an' fight — 'e smells 
 
 most awful vile ; 
 E'll lose 'isself for ever if you let 'im stray a mile; 
 E's game to graze the 'ole day long an' 'owl the 
 
 'ole night through, 
 An' when 'e comes to greasy ground 'e splits 'isself 
 in two. 
 O the oont, O the oont, O the floppin', 
 droppin' oont! 
 When 'is long legs give from under an' 'is 
 meltin' eye is dim. 
 The tribes is up be'ind us, and the tribes 
 is out in front — 
 It ain't no jam for Tommy, but it's kites 
 an' crows for 'im. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 \ , 
 
 So when the cruel march is done, an' when the 
 
 roads is blind. 
 An' when we sees the camp in front an' 'ears the 
 
 shots be'ind. 
 
 * 
 
 £5!Sf;taF^;^-JJ^.'.' V -' " '\. —i-.rf- . i^^^T*"'"^ *? 
 
■■' (I 
 
 1 • 
 
 170 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 Ho then we strips 'is saddle off, and all 'is woes is 
 
 past: 
 'E thinks on us that used 'im so, and gets revenge 
 at last. 
 
 O the oont, O the oont, O the floatin', 
 bloatin' oont! 
 The late lamented camel in the water-cut 
 'e lies; 
 We keeps a mile behind 'im an' we keeps a 
 mile in front, 
 But 'e gets into the drinkin'-casks, and 
 then o' course we dies. 
 
LOOT 
 
 If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the 
 keeper's back, 
 If you've ever snigged the washin' from the line, 
 If you've ever crammed a gander in your bloomin' 
 'aversack. 
 You will understand this little song o' mine. 
 But the service rules are 'ard, and from such we 
 are debarred. 
 For the same with English morals does not suit. 
 {Cornet: Toot! toot!) 
 W'y, they call a man a robber ;f 'e stuffs 'is marchin' 
 clobber 
 With the— 
 {Chorus.') \jQo\\QiQt\ Lulu! lulu! Loo! loo! Loot! 
 loot! loot! 
 
 Ow the loot 1 
 Bloomin' loot! 
 That's the thing to make the boys git up an' 
 shoot ! 
 
 in 
 
172 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 It's the same with dogs an' men, 
 If you'd make 'em come again 
 Clap 'em forward with a Loo! loo! Lulu! 
 Loot! 
 (/■) Whoopee ! Tear 'im, puppy ! Loo! loo! Lulu! 
 Loot! loot! loot! 
 
 If you've knocked a nigger edgeways when 'e's 
 thrustin' for your life, 
 You must leave 'im very careful where 'e fell; 
 An' may thank your stars an' gaiters if you didn't 
 feel 'is knife 
 That you ain't told off to bury 'im as well. 
 Then the sweatin' Tommies wonder as they spade 
 the beggars under 
 Why lootin' should be entered as a crime; 
 So if my song you'll 'ear, I will learn you plain an' 
 clear 
 'Ow to pay yourself for fightin' overtime 
 {^Chonis.) With the loot, etc. 
 
 Now remember when you're 'acking round a gilded 
 Burma god 
 That 'is eyes is very often precious stones; 
 
 * 
 
 iiir>n<wiii'— liiii 
 
Lulu! 
 Lulu ! 
 
 LOOT 
 
 173 
 
 An' if you treat a nigger to a dose o' cleanin'- 
 rod 
 'E's like to show you everything 'e owns. 
 When 'e won't prodooce no more, pour some water 
 on the floor 
 Where you 'ear it answer 'ollow to the boot 
 {Cornet: Toot! toot!) — 
 When the ground begins to sink, shove your baynick 
 down the chink, 
 An' you're sure to touch the — 
 {Chorus.) Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot! 
 
 Ow the loot ! etc. 
 
 
 ; 1 
 
 When from 'ouse to 'ouse you're 'unting, you m'^^^t 
 always work in pairs — 
 It 'alves the gain, but safer you will find — 
 For a single man gets bottled on them tvvisty-wisty 
 stairs, 
 An' a woman comes and clobs 'im from be'ind. 
 When you've turned 'em inside out, an' it seems 
 beyond a doubt 
 As if there weren't enough to dust a flute 
 {Cornet: Toot! toot!) — 
 
 !f 
 
174 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 :! f 
 
 if 
 
 ! •*•■ 
 
 Before you sling your 'ook,at the 'ouse-toi: stake a look, 
 For it's underneath the tiles they 'ide the loot. 
 {Chorus.) Ow the loot, etc. 
 
 You can mostly square a Sergint an' a Quartermaster 
 too, 
 If you only take the proper way to go; 
 / could never keep my pickin's, but I've learned 
 you all I knew — 
 An' don't you never say I told you so. 
 An' now I'll bid good-by, for I'm gettin' rather dry> 
 An' I see another tunin' up to toot {Cornet: Toot! 
 toot!)— 
 So 'ere's good-luck to those that wears the Widow's 
 clo'es, 
 An' the Devil send 'em all they want o' loot! 
 {Chorus.) Yes, the loot, 
 Bloomin' loot. 
 In the tunic an' the mess-tin an' the boot ! 
 It's the same with dogs an' men. 
 If you'd make 'em come again 
 (Jff) Whoop 'em forward with a Loo ! loo ! Lulu I 
 
 Loot! loot! loot! 
 Heeya! Sick 'im, puppy! Loo! loo! Lulu! 
 Loot! loot! loot! 
 
'SNARLEYOW 
 
 
 This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corps 
 Which is first among the women an' amazin' first in 
 
 war; 
 An' what tht bl min' battle was I don't remember 
 
 now, 
 But Two b > 'ft -lead 'e answered to the name o' Snarie- 
 
 you\ 
 
 Down in the Infantry, nobody cares; 
 Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears; 
 But down in the lead with the wheel at the flog 
 Turns the bold Bombardier to a little whipped 
 dog! 
 
 They was movin' into action, they was needed very 
 
 sore. 
 To learn a little schoolin' to a native army corps, 
 
 176 
 
f t 
 If, 
 
 ■; >( 
 
 176 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 They 'ad nipped against an uphill, they was tuckin' 
 
 down the brow, 
 When a tricky, triindlin' round-shot give the knock 
 
 to Snarleyow 
 
 They cut 'im loose an' left 'im — 'e was almost tore 
 
 in two — 
 But he tried to follow after as a well-trained 'orse 
 
 should do; 
 'E went an' fouled the limber, an' the Driver's 
 
 Brother squeals : 
 *Pull up, pull up for Snarleyow — 'is 'ead's between 
 
 'is 'eels!' 
 
 r 
 
 The Driver 'umped 'is shoulder, for the wheels was 
 
 goin' round, 
 An' there aren't no *Stop, conductor!' when a 
 
 batt'ry's changin' ground; 
 Sez 'e: *I broke the beggar in, an' very sad I feels. 
 But I couldn't pull up, not for you — your 'ead be- 
 
 twee" your 'eels ! * 
 
 'E 'adn't 'ardly spoke the word, before a droppin' 
 
 shell 
 A little right the batt'ry an' between the sections fell; 
 
 I ' 
 
 w .. ^ 
 
5 tuckin' 
 he knock 
 
 Host tore 
 ed 'orse 
 Driver's 
 between 
 
 leels was 
 
 when a 
 
 I feels, 
 'ead be- 
 
 [iroppin' 
 ons fell j 
 
 ■ SNARLEYOW ' 
 
 177 
 
 An' when the smoke 'ad cleared away, before the 
 
 limber wheels, 
 There lay the Driver's Brother with 'is 'cad between 
 
 'is 'eels. 
 
 Then sez the Driver's Brother, an' 'is words was very 
 
 plain, 
 'For Gawd's own sake get over me, an' put me out 
 
 o' pain.' 
 They saw 'is wounds was mortial, an' they judged 
 
 that it was best. 
 So they took an' drove the limber straight across 'is 
 
 back an' chest. 
 
 The Driver 'e give nothin' 'cept a little coughin* 
 grunt. 
 
 But 'e swung 'is 'orses 'andsome when it came to 
 'Action front! ' 
 
 An' if one wheel was juicy, you may lay your Mon- 
 day head 
 
 'Twas juicier for the niggers when the case begun 
 to spread. 
 
 The moril of this story, it is plainly to be seen : 
 You 'avn't got no families when servin' of the Queen — 
 
 M 
 
 1. 
 1^ 
 
 i 
 
 i ; 
 
 i i 
 

 I'. 
 
 
 
 178 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 You 'avn't got no brothers, fathers, sisters, wives, or 
 
 sons — 
 If you want to win your battles take an' work your 
 
 bloomin' guns! 
 
 Down in the Infantry, nobody cares; 
 Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears; 
 But down in the lead with the wheel at the flog 
 Turns the bold Bombardier to a little whipped 
 dog! 
 
 'A 
 
wives, or 
 'ork your 
 
 irs; 
 
 Lt the flog 
 
 whipped 
 
 THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR 
 
 'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor 
 
 With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead? 
 She 'as ships on the foam— she 'as millions at 'ome, 
 
 An' she pays us poor beggars in red. 
 (Ow, poor beggars in red !) 
 There's 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses, 
 
 There's 'er mark on the medical stores — 
 An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind 
 
 That takes us to various wars. 
 
 (Poor beggars! — barbarious wars!) 
 
 Then 'ere's to the Widow at Windsor, 
 An' 'ere's to the stores an' the guns, 
 The men an' the 'orses what makes up the 
 forces 
 C Missis Victorier's sons. 
 
 (Poor beggars ! Victorier's sons !) 
 
 179 
 
 n 
 
 ., 
 
 \^ 
 

 f 
 
 llj 
 
 180 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 Walk wide o' the Widow at Windsor, 
 
 For 'alf o' Creation slie owns: 
 We 'ave bouglit 'er the same with the sword an' 
 the flame, 
 An' we've salted it down with our bones. 
 (Poor beggars! — it's blue with our bones!) 
 Hands off o' the sons of the Widow, 
 Hands off o' the goods in 'er shop, 
 For the Kings must come down an' the Emperors 
 frown 
 When the Widow at Windsor says 'Stop ' I 
 (Poor beggars! — we're sent to say *Stop' !) 
 
 Then 'ere's to the Lodge o' the Widow, 
 From the Pole to the Tropics it runs — 
 
 To the Lodge that we tile with the rank 
 an' the file. 
 
 An' open in form with the guns. 
 
 (Poor beggars ! — it's always they guns !) 
 
 We 'ave 'card o' the Widow at Windsor, 
 
 It's safest to leave 'er alone : 
 For 'er sentries we stand by the sea an' the land 
 
 Wherever the bugles are blown. 
 
 (Poor beggars! — an' don't we get blown!) 
 
 1 1 
 
 I 
 

 sword an' 
 
 les !) 
 
 Emperors 
 
 THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR 
 
 181 
 
 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 thev roam. 
 'Ere's all they desire, an' if they require 
 A speedy return to their 'ome. 
 
 (Poor beggars! — they'll never see 
 'ome !) 
 
 
 i: 
 
 Vidow, 
 t runs — 
 i the rank 
 
 iy guns !) 
 
 e land 
 wn!) 
 
1 u, 
 
 ( 1 
 
 BELTS 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street that's near to 
 
 Dublin Quay, 
 Between an Irish regiment an' English cavalree; 
 It started at Revelly an' it lasted on till dark: 
 The first man dropped at Harrison's, the last forninst 
 
 the Park. 
 
 For it was 'Belts, belts, belts, an' that's one 
 
 for you ! ' 
 An' it was 'Belts, belts, belts, an' that's done 
 
 for you ! ' 
 O buckle an' tongue 
 Was the song that we sung 
 From Harrison's down to the Park! 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street — the regiments 
 
 was out, 
 They called us 'Delhi Rebels,' an' we answered 
 
 'Threes about 1 ' 
 182 
 
3 near to 
 
 ilree; 
 
 •k: 
 
 )t forninst 
 
 ;hat's one 
 lal's done 
 
 regiments 
 answered 
 
 BELTS 
 
 183 
 
 That drew them like a hornet's nest — we met them 
 
 good an' large, 
 The English at the double an' the Irish at the 
 
 charge. 
 
 Then it was : Belts — 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street — an' I was in it 
 
 too; 
 We passed the time o' day, an' then the belts went 
 
 whirraru ! 
 I misremember what occurred, but subsequint the 
 
 storm 
 A Freeman^ s Journal Supplemini vfdi^ all my uniform. 
 O it was : Belts — 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street — they sent the 
 
 Polis there, 
 The English were too drunk to know, the Irish 
 
 didn't care; 
 But when they grew impertinint we simultaneous 
 
 rose. 
 Till half o' them was Liffey mud an' half was 
 
 tatthered clo'es. 
 
 For it was : Belts — 
 
 f^ 
 
 I 
 
 
 1 
 
! ■ H 
 
 I 
 
 lii 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 ' 1 
 
 \\ 
 
 / 1 
 
 ■!i 
 
 ll 
 
 il- 
 
 :\ ) 
 
 f 
 
 184 
 
 BARUACK-ROOM E.^.LLA!)S 
 
 There wdz a row I'l Silver Street — it might ha' 
 
 raged till now. 
 But some one drew his side-arm clear, an' nobody 
 
 knew how; 
 'Twas Hogan took the point an' dropped; we saw 
 
 the red blood '^uii : 
 An' so we all was murderers that st' rted out in fun. 
 While it was: Belts—- 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street — but that put down 
 
 the shine, 
 Wid each man whisperin' to his next: "Twas never 
 
 work o' mine! ' 
 We went iuvay like beaten dogs, an' down the street 
 
 we bore him, 
 The poor linmb corpse that couldn't tell the bhoys 
 
 were sony for him. 
 
 When it was: Belts — 
 
 There was a row in Silver Street — it isn't over 
 
 yet. 
 
 For half of us are under guard wid punishments to 
 
 get; 
 
light ha' 
 ' nobody 
 ; we saw 
 t in fun. 
 
 put down 
 vas never 
 he street 
 lie bhoys 
 
 BELTS 
 
 185 
 
 'Tis all a merricle to nic as in the Ciin^. I bz: 
 There was a row in Silver Street — begod, i T.onfior 
 why! 
 
 But it wms 'Belts, belts, htltx, .n* ih m 's one 
 
 for you ! ' 
 An' it was 'Belts, belts, belts, aa uiat's done 
 
 for you ! ' 
 O buckle and tongue 
 Was the song that we sung 
 From Harrison's down to the Park ! 
 
 f 
 
 n't over 
 
 ments to 
 
 *i 
 
Ill 
 
 i 'i 
 
 I 
 
 ! 
 
 Ill 
 
 THE YOUNG BRITISH SOLDIER 
 
 When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East 
 'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast, 
 An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased 
 Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier, 
 Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, 
 Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, 
 Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, 
 So-oldier ^the Queen! 
 
 Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day, 
 You shut up your rag- box an' 'ark to my lay, 
 An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may: 
 A soldier what's fit for a soldier. 
 Fit, fit, fit for a soldier. 
 
 First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts. 
 For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your 
 
 guts- 
 Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts — 
 An' it's bad for the young British soldier. 
 
 Bad, bad, bad for the soldier. 
 180 
 
 ^•••*»^V. 
 
THE YOUNG RRITISH SOLDIER 187 
 
 ! .f 
 
 ER 
 e East 
 
 St, 
 
 ased 
 
 When the cholera comes— as it will past a doubt- 
 Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout, 
 For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out. 
 
 An' it crumples the young British soldier. 
 Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier. . . 
 
 But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead: 
 You musf wear your 'elmet for all that is said: 
 If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down 
 dead, 
 
 An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier. 
 Fool, fool, fool of a soldier. . . 
 
 I 
 
 s' huts, 
 out your 
 
 ir butts — 
 Idler. 
 
 If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind, 
 Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor 
 
 blind; 
 Be handy and civil and then you will find 
 
 That it's beer for the young British soldier. 
 Beer, beer, beer for the soldier. . . 
 
 Now, if you must marry, take care she is old — 
 A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told — 
 For beauty won't help if your rations is cold, 
 Nor love ain't enough for a soldier. 
 
 'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier. . . 
 
 
1 : 
 
 \fii 
 
 188 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loth 
 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 o' 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. 
 Front, front, front like a soldier. . . 
 
 When 'arf of your bullets fly wide in the ditch, 
 Don't c?\\ your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch; 
 She's human as you are — you treat her as sich, 
 
 An' she'll fight for the young British soldier. 
 Fight, fight, fight for the soldier. . . 
 
 When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine. 
 The guns o' the enemy wheel into line; 
 Shoot low at the limbers an' don't mind the shine, 
 For noise never startles the soldier. 
 
 Start-, start-, startles the soldier. . . 
 
THE YOUNG BRITISH SOLDIER 
 
 189 
 
 fl 
 
 le, be loth 
 ng, on my 
 
 Hell for 
 
 dier. 
 
 duck, 
 ; struck, 
 luck 
 ier. 
 ;r. . . 
 
 itch, 
 
 tch; 
 
 ich, 
 
 sh soldier. 
 
 ;r. . . 
 
 If your ofificer's dead and the sergeants look white, 
 Remember it's ruin to run from a fight: 
 So take open order, lie down, and sit tight, 
 And wait for supports like a soldier. 
 Wait, wait, wait like a soldier. . . 
 
 VV^hen you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's 
 
 plains. 
 And the women come out to cut up what remains, 
 Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains 
 An' go to your Gawd like a soldier. 
 Go, go, go like a soldier. 
 Go, go, go like a soldier. 
 Go, go, go like a soldier, 
 So-oldier o/the Queen! 
 
 I 
 
 t ' 
 
 ue, 
 
 e shine. 
 
 ^ \ 
 
 r. . . 
 
 '. I 
 
ii 
 
 / 
 
 MANDALAY 
 
 By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to 
 the sea, 
 
 There's a Burma girl a-settin', and 1 know she 
 thinks o' me; 
 
 For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple- 
 hells they say : 
 
 *Come you back, you British soldier; come you back 
 to Mandalay ! ' 
 
 Come you back to Mandalay, 
 
 Where the old Flotilla lay: 
 
 Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin from 
 
 Rangoon to Mandalay? 
 On the road to Mandalay, 
 Where the flyin'-fishes play. 
 An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer 
 
 China 'crost the Bay ! 
 
 'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green, 
 An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat — jes' the same as 
 Theebaw's Queen, 
 190 
 
MANDALAY 
 
 191 
 
 jtward to 
 
 now she 
 
 temple- 
 
 you back 
 
 in from 
 
 er outer 
 
 green, 
 same as 
 
 An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white 
 
 cheroot, 
 An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's 
 
 foot: 
 
 Bloom in' idol made o' mud — 
 
 What they called the Great Gawd Rudd — 
 
 Plucky lot she cared for idols when 1 kissed 
 
 'er where she stud ! 
 On the road to Mandalay, etc. 
 
 When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun 
 
 was droppin' slow, 
 She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing 'Kuila- 
 
 lo-lo! ' 
 With 'er arm upon m;, shoulder an' 'er cheek agin 
 
 my cheek 
 We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin* 
 
 teak. 
 
 Elephints a-pilin' teak 
 
 In the sludgy, squdgy creek. 
 
 Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 
 
 'arf afraid to speak! 
 On the road to Mandalay, etc. 
 
 ■I 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
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 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 
 
 «■ 
 
 '^ 
 

 H 
 
 5 
 
'•w 
 
 192 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 But that's all shove be'ind me — long ago an' fur 
 
 away, 
 An' there ain't no 'busses runnin' from the Bank to 
 
 Mandalay ; 
 An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year 
 
 soldier tells: 
 *If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 
 
 'eed naught else.' 
 
 No! you won't 'eed nothin' else 
 
 But them spicy garlic smells, 
 
 An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the 
 
 tinkly temple-bells; 
 On the road to Mandalay, etc 
 
 I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'- 
 
 stones. 
 An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in 
 
 my bones; 
 Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to 
 
 the Strand, 
 An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they 
 
 understand? 
 
 Beefy face an' grubby 'and — 
 Law! wot do they understand? 
 
 : I 
 
 ; a 
 
igo an' fur 
 he Bank to 
 the ten-year 
 won't never 
 
 rees an' the 
 
 ritty pavin'- 
 the fever in 
 IT Chelsea to 
 wot do they 
 
 MANDALAY 
 
 193 
 
 iVe a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, 
 
 greener land ! 
 On the road to Mandalay, etc. 
 
 Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is 
 
 like the worst, 
 Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a 
 
 man can raise a thirst; 
 For the temple-bells are callin', and it's there that 
 
 I would be — 
 
 By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the 
 sea; 
 
 On the road to Mandalay, 
 
 Where the old Flotilla lay. 
 
 With our sick beneath the awnings when we 
 
 went to Mandalay ! 
 Oh the road to Mandalay, 
 Where the fly in' -fishes play. 
 An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer 
 
 China 'crost the Bay 1 
 
 N 
 
 k 
 
 if 
 
 f 
 
 i 4 
 
 hi 
 5' 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
TROOPIN' 
 
 (our army in the east) 
 
 Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea: 
 
 'Era'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 aversav-k, 
 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! 
 194 
 
 i 
 
TROOPIN' 
 
 ir men are 
 
 ,nnot come 
 
 es us 'ome 
 
 e. 
 
 y bit 
 
 195 
 
 The Malabar's in 'arbour with the Jumner at ^er tail, 
 An' the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders for to sail! 
 Ho! the weary waitin' when on Khyber 'ills we lay, 
 But the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders 'ome 
 to-day. 
 
 an' 
 
 They'll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf in cold 
 wet an' rain, 
 
 All wearin' Injian cotton kit, but we will not com- 
 plain; 
 
 They'll kill us of pneumonia— for that's their little 
 way — 
 
 But damn the chills and fever, men, we're goin' 
 'ome to-day ! 
 
 Troopin', troopin', winter's round again ! 
 See the new draf's pourin' in for the old campaign; 
 Ho, you poor recruities, but you've got to earn your 
 pay— 
 
 What's the last from Lunnon, lads? We're goin' 
 there to-day. 
 
 Troopin', troopin', give another cheer— 
 
 'Ere's to English women an' a quart of English beer; 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
t! ' 
 
 !>■» 
 
 196 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 The Colonel an' the regiment an' all who've got to 
 
 stay, 
 Gawd's mercy strike 'em gentle — Whoop! we're 
 
 goin' 'ome to-day. 
 
 -1 i 
 
 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. 
 
 V I 
 
THE WIDOW'S PARTY 
 
 ■I 
 
 ' i 
 
 'Where have you been this while away, 
 
 Johnnie, Johnnie?' 
 Out with the rest on a picnic lay, 
 
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha! 
 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. 
 
 Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 197 
 
 I 
 
 
 3' 
 
 I 
 
198 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 'What did you do for knives and forks, 
 
 Johnnie, Johnnie?' 
 We carries 'em with us wherever we walks, 
 
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha ! 
 And some was sliced and some was halved. 
 And some was crimped and some was carved. 
 And some was gutted and some was starved, 
 
 When the Widow give the party. 
 
 'What ha' you done with half your mess, 
 
 Johnnie, Johnnie?' 
 They couldn't do more and they wouldn't do less, 
 
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha ! 
 They t ^ir whack and they drank their fill. 
 And I uxLiik the rations has made them ill, 
 For half my comp'ny's lying still 
 
 Where the Widow give the party. 
 
 i / 
 
 *How did you get away — away, 
 
 Johnnie, Johnnie ? ' 
 
 On the broad o' my back at the end o' the day, 
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha ! 
 
THE WIDOW S TARTY 
 
 199 
 
 I corned away like a bleedin' toff. 
 For I got four niggers to carry me off, 
 As I lay in the bight of a canvas trough, 
 
 When the Widow give the party. 
 
 111 
 
 'What was the end of all the show, 
 
 Johnnie, Johnnie?' 
 Ask my Colonel, for I don't know, 
 
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha ! 
 We broke a King and we built a road— 
 A court-house stands where the reg'ment goed. 
 And the river's clean where the raw blood flowed 
 
 When the Widow give the party. 
 {Bugle. ) Ta — rara — ra-ra-rara ! 
 
 r 
 
 % 
 
^ 
 
 
 ll 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 J 
 
 FORD O' KABUL RIVER 
 
 Kabul town's by Kabul river — 
 
 Blow the bugle, draw the sword — 
 There I lef my mate for ever, 
 
 Wet an' drippin' by the ford. 
 
 Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, 
 
 Ford o' Kabul river in the dark ! 
 There's the river up and brimmin', an' there's 
 'arf a 'squadron swimmin' 
 
 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. 
 
 Kabul town's a blasted place — 
 
 Blow the bugle, draw the sword — 
 'Strewth I shan't forget 'is face 
 
 Wet an' drippin' by the ford! 
 
 Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river. 
 
 Ford o' Kabul river in the dark i 
 Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they 
 will surely guide you 
 'Cross the ford of Kabul river in the dark. 
 200 
 
FORD O' KABUL RIVER 
 
 201 
 
 Kabul town is sun and dust— 
 
 lilow the bugle, draw the sword— 
 I'd ha' sooner drownded fust 
 'Stead of 'im beside the ford. 
 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. 
 
 m' there's 
 ? dark. 
 
 Kabul town was ours to take 
 
 Blow the bugle, draw the sword— 
 I'd ha' left it .or '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? 
 
 I I 
 
 an' they 
 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. 
 
 
■jl 
 
 ■f 
 
 202 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, 
 
 Ford o.' Kabul river in the dark ! 
 Gawd 'elp 'em if they blunder, for their 
 boots'il pull 'em under, 
 
 By the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. 
 
 Turn your 'orse from Kabul town — 
 
 Blow the bugle, draw the sword — 
 'Im an' 'arf my troop is down, 
 
 Down an' drownded by the ford. 
 
 Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, 
 
 Ford o' Kabul river in the dark ! 
 There's the river low an' fallin', but it ain't 
 no use o' callin' 
 
 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. 
 
 li } 
 
, for their 
 lark. 
 
 ut it ain't 
 e dark. 
 
 GENTLEMEN-RANKERS 
 
 To the legion of the lost ones, to che cohort of the 
 damned, 
 
 To my brethren in their sorrow overseas. 
 Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely 
 crammed, 
 
 And a trooper of the Empress, if you please. 
 Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six 
 horses. 
 And faith he went the pace and went it blind. 
 And the world was more than kin while he held the 
 ready tin. 
 
 But to-day the Sergeant's something less than kind. 
 We're poor little lambs who've lost our way. 
 Baa! Baa! Baa! 
 
 We're little black sheep who've gone astray, 
 
 Baa — aa — aa ! 
 Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree 
 Damned from here to Eternity, 
 God ha' mercy on such as we, 
 Baa! Yah! Bah! 
 
 Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
 203 
 
204 
 
 BARRACK-ROOxM BALLADS 
 
 H ii 
 
 Oh, it's sweet to sweat through stables, sweet to 
 empty kitchen slops, 
 And it's sweet to hear the tales the troopers tell, 
 To dance with blowzy housemaids at the regimental 
 hops, 
 And thrash the cad who says you waltz too well. 
 Yes, it makes you cock-a-hoop to be 'Rider' to your 
 troop, 
 And branded with a blasted worsted spur, 
 When you envy, Oh, how keenly, one poor Tommy 
 being cleanly 
 Who blacks your boots and sometimes call you *Sir.' 
 
 If the home we never write to, and the oaths we 
 never keep. 
 And all we know most distant and most dear, 
 Across the snoring barrack-room return to break our 
 sleep. 
 Can you blame us if we soak ourselves in beer? 
 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 ihc aching white- 
 washed ceiling, 
 Do you wonder that we drug ourselves from pain? 
 
 K I 
 
GENTLEMEN-RANKERS 
 
 205 
 
 2s, sweet to 
 
 We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost 
 to Love and Truth, 
 We are dropping down the Ladder rung by rung. 
 And the measure of our torment is the measure' of 
 our youth. 
 
 God help us, for we knew the worst too young! 
 Our shame is clean repentance for the crime that 
 brought the sentence. 
 Our pride it is to know no spur of pride. 
 And the Curse of Reuben holds u^ till an'alien turf 
 enfolds us 
 
 And we die, and none can tell Them where we 
 died. 
 
 We're poor little lambs who've lost our way, 
 
 Baa! Baa! Baa! 
 We're little black sheep who've gone astray, 
 
 Baa — aa — aa ! 
 Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree, 
 Damned from here to Eternity, 
 God ha' mercy on such as we, 
 
 Baa! Yah! Bah! 
 
 I 
 
'i 
 
 f II 
 
 :;i 
 
 :,, » 
 
 ll ' 
 
 
 ROUTE MARCHIN' 
 
 We'ke marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains, 
 A little front o' Christmas time an' just be'ind the 
 
 Rains, 
 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 U'owdy-dowdy-dow!'' — 
 ^Kiko kissywarsii don't you hamsher argyjow? * 
 
 Oh, there's them Injian temples to admire when you 
 
 see. 
 There's the peacock round the corner an' the 
 
 monkey up the tree, 
 206 
 
ROUTE MARCHIN' 207 
 
 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. 
 
 While it's best foot first, etc. 
 
 At half-past five's Revelly, an' our tents they down 
 must come, 
 
 Like a lot of button mushrooms when you pick 'em 
 
 up at 'ome. 
 But it's over in a minute, an' at six the column starts. 
 While the women and the kiddies sit an' shiver in 
 
 the carts. 
 
 And it's best foot first, etc. 
 
 Oh, then it's open order, an' we lights our pipes an' 
 sings. 
 
 An' we talks about our rations an' a lot of other things. 
 And we thinks o' friends in England, an' we wonders 
 what they're at, 
 
 An' 'ow they would admire for to hear us sling 
 the bat} 
 
 An' it's best foot first, etc. 
 
 1 Thomas's first and firmest conviction is that he is a profourd 
 Orientalist and a fluent speaker of Hindustani. As a matter of 
 fact, he depends jargely on the sign-language. 
 
 ! 
 
 
 i J - J 
 
ll 
 
 \ ; 
 
 iifi 
 
 U; 
 
 i 
 
 208 
 
 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 
 
 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. 
 Till it's best foot first, etc. 
 
 So 'ark an' 'eed you rookies, which is always grum- 
 
 blin' sore, 
 There's worser things than marchin' from Umballa 
 
 to Cawnpore; 
 And if your 'eels are blistered an' they feels to 'urt 
 
 like 'ell 
 You drop some tallow in your socks an' that will 
 
 make 'em well. 
 
 For it's best foot first, etc. 
 
 '■» 
 
 
 We're marchin' on relief over Injia's coral strand. 
 Eight 'undred fightin' Englishmen, the Colonel, and 
 the Band, 
 
 i 
 
re lyin' at 
 m feather- 
 re ain't no 
 2y plays at 
 
 ROUTE MARCHIN' 
 
 209 
 
 ays grum- 
 
 1 Umballa 
 
 els to 'urt 
 
 that will 
 
 Ho! get away, you bullock-man, you've 'card 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 Wowdy-dowdy-dow! ^ 
 
 *Kiko kissywarsti^ov^'iyoyx hamsherargyjow? * * 
 
 1 Why don't you get on ? 
 
 Strand, 
 3nel, and 
 
 H 
 
I: }. 
 
 4 1' 
 
 :^ 
 
 ) 
 
 SHILLIN' A DAY 
 
 My name is O'Kelly, I've heard the Revelly 
 
 From Birr to Bareilly, from Leeds to Lahore, 
 
 Hong-Kong and Peshawur, 
 
 Lucknow and Etawah, 
 
 And fifty-five more all endin' in 'pore.' 
 
 Black Death and his quickness, the depth and the 
 
 thickness. 
 Of sorrow and sickness I've known on my way, 
 But I'm old and I'm nervis, 
 I'm cast from the Service, 
 And all I deserve is a shillin' a day. 
 
 ( Chorus. ) Shillin' a day 
 
 Bloomin' good pay — 
 
 Lucky to touch it, a shillin' a day ! 
 
 Oh, it drives me half crazy to think of the days I 
 Went slap for the Ghazi my sword at my side, 
 
 210 Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
j 
 
 SHILLLN' A DAY 
 
 211 
 
 and the 
 
 When we rode Hell-for-leather 
 
 Both squadrons together, 
 
 That didn't care whether we lived or we died. 
 
 But it's no use desparin', my wife must go charin' 
 
 An' me commissairin' the pay-bills to better, 
 
 So if me you be'old 
 
 In the wet and the cold, 
 
 By the Grand Metropold won't you give me a letter? 
 
 {Full Chorus.) Give 'im a letter- 
 Can' t do no better 
 Late Troop-Sergeant Major an'— runs 
 
 with a letter ! 
 Think what 'e's been. 
 Think what 'e's seen, 
 
 Think of his pension an' 
 
 Gawl save the Queen I 
 
 >i 
 
 a day! 
 ys I 
 
 I '■ 
 
] ' 
 
 L'ENVOI 
 
 There's a whisper down the field where the year 
 has shot her yield, 
 And the ricks stand grey to the sun, 
 Singing: — 'Over then, come over, for the bee has 
 quit the clover, 
 And your English summer's done.' 
 
 You have heard the beat of the off-shore wind, 
 
 And the thresh of the deep-sea rain; 
 
 You have heard the song — how long! how 
 
 long? 
 Pull out on the trail again ! 
 
 
 I 
 
 Ha' done with the Tents of Shem, dear lass, 
 
 We've seen the seasons through, 
 
 And it's time to turn on the old trail, our own 
 
 trail, the out trail. 
 Pull out, pull out, on the Long Trail — the trail 
 
 that is always new. 
 
 212 Copyright, iSgi, by Macmillan & Co. 
 
the year 
 
 bee has 
 
 L'ENVOI 213 
 
 It's North you may run to the rime-ringed sun 
 
 Or South to the blind Horn's hate; 
 Or East all the way into Mississippi Bay, 
 
 Or West to the Golden Gate; 
 
 Where the blindest bluffs hold good, dear lass, 
 
 And the wildest tales are true, 
 
 And the men bulk big on the old trail, cur own 
 
 trail, the out trail, 
 And hie runs large on the Long Trail— the trail 
 
 that is always new. 
 
 3re wind, 
 ng! how 
 
 ass, 
 
 our own 
 the trail 
 
 The days are sick and cold, and the skies are grey 
 and old. 
 
 And the twice-breathed airs blow damp; 
 And I'd sell my tired soul for the bucking beam-sea 
 roll 
 
 Of a black Bilbao tramp; 
 
 With her load-line over her hatch, dear lass, 
 
 And a drunken Dago crew, 
 
 And her nose held down on the old trail, our 
 
 own trail, the out trail 
 From Cadiz Bar on the Long Trail— the trail 
 
 that is always new. 
 
214 
 
 UENVOI 
 
 There be triple ways to take, of the eagle or the snake, 
 
 Or the way of a man with a maid; 
 But the sweetest way to me is a ship's upon the sea 
 
 In the heel of *' 'orth-East Trade. 
 
 Can you hear the crash on her bows, dear lass, 
 
 And the drum of the racing screw. 
 
 As she ships it green on the old trail, our own 
 
 trail, the out trail, 
 As she lifts and 'scends on the Long Trail — the 
 
 trail that is always new? 
 
 ) 
 
 I 
 
 See the shaking funnels roar, with the Peter at the 
 fore, 
 And the fenders grind and heave, 
 And the derricks clack and grate as the tackle 
 hooks the crate. 
 And the fall-rope whines through the sheave; 
 
 It's 'Gang-plank up and in,' dear lass. 
 
 It's 'Hawsers warp her through ! ' 
 
 And it's 'All clear aft ' on the old trail, our 
 
 own trail, the out trail, 
 We're backing down on the Long Trail — the 
 
 trail that is always new. 
 
L'ENVOI 
 
 215 
 
 r the snake, 
 n the sea 
 
 dear lass, 
 1, our own 
 Trail — the 
 
 ter at the 
 
 he tackle 
 
 ave; 
 
 trail, our 
 rrail~the 
 
 Oh, the mutter overside, when the port-fog holds us 
 tied. 
 And the syrens hoot their dread ! 
 When foot by foot we creep o'er the hueless viewless 
 deep 
 To the sob of the questing lead ! 
 
 It's down by the Lower Hope, dear lass. 
 
 With the Gunfleet Sands in view, 
 
 Till the Mouse swings green on the old trail, 
 
 our own trail, the out trail. 
 And the Gull Light lifts on the Long Trail— 
 the trail that is always new. 
 
 Oh, the blazing tropic night, when the wake's a 
 welt of light 
 That holds the hot sky tame. 
 And the steady fore-foot snores ihrough the planet- 
 powdered floors 
 Where the scared whale flukes in flame ! 
 Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass, 
 Her ropes are taunt with the dew. 
 For we're booming down on the old trail, our 
 
 own trail, the out trail. 
 We're sagging south on the Long Trail— the 
 trail that is always new. 
 
i 
 
 1! t 
 
 I 
 
 216 
 
 L'ENVOI 
 
 Then home, get her home where the drunken 
 rollers comb, 
 And the shouting seas drive by, 
 And the engines stamp and ring and the wet bows 
 reel and swing. 
 And the Southern Cross rides high ! 
 
 Yes, the old lost stars wheel back, dear lass. 
 
 That blaze in the velvet blue. 
 
 They're all old friends on the old trail, our 
 
 own trail, the out trail. 
 They're God's own guides on the Long Trail — 
 
 the trail that is always new. 
 
 Fly forward, O my heart, from the Foreland to the 
 Start — 
 
 We're steaming all too slow. 
 And it's twenty thousand miles to our little lazy isle 
 
 Where the trumpet-orchids blow ! 
 
 You have heard the call of the off-shore wind 
 
 And the voice of the deep-sea rain — 
 
 You have heard the song — how long! how 
 
 long? 
 Pull out on the trail again ! 
 
e the drunken 
 
 I the wet bows 
 
 dear lass, 
 old trail, our 
 I-ong Trail— 
 
 L'ENVOI 
 
 217 
 
 The I^rd knows what we may find, dear lass 
 A»d t e Deuce knows what we my d" ' 
 B"t we're back once more on the old ,r ■, 
 
 own trail, the out trail '""' °" 
 
 We're down, hull-down on'the Long Trail ,h 
 
 trail that is always new. ^ ^' 
 
 
 reland to the 
 
 ittle lazy isle 
 
 lore wind 
 long ! how 
 
I 
 
 \l 
 
). » 
 
Morang's " Florin" Series 
 
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A Duet 
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The Music Lover's Library 
 
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