Verses 1889-1896. Rudyard Kipling

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Verses 1889-1896 - Rudyard Kipling

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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.

        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.

            We’re goin’ ‘ome, we’re goin’ ‘ome,

             Our ship is at the shore,

            An’ you must pack your ‘aversack,

             For we won’t come back no more.

            Ho, don’t you grieve for me,

             My lovely Mary-Ann,

            For I’ll marry you yit on a fourp’ny bit

             As a time-expired man.

      THE WIDOW’S PARTY

        “Where have you been this while away,

            Johnnie, Johnnie?”

         ‘Long 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.

        “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 ate their whack and they drank their fill,

        And I think the rations has made them ill,

        For half my comp’ny’s lying still

            Where the Widow give the party.

        “How did you get away – away,

            Johnnie, Johnnie?”

         On the broad o’ my back at the end o’ the day,

            Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!

        I comed 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.

        “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!)

      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 sha’n’t forget ‘is face

         Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford!

            Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,

             Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!

            Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an’ they will surely guide you

             ‘Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.

        Kabul town is sun and dust —

         Blow 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.

        Kabul town was ours to take —

         Blow the bugle, draw the sword —

        I’d ha’ left it for ‘is sake —

         ‘Im that left me by the ford.

            Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,

             Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!

            It’s none so bloomin’ dry there; ain’t you never comin’ nigh there,

             ‘Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark?

        Kabul town’ll go to hell —

         Blow the bugle, draw the sword —

        ‘Fore I see him ‘live an’ well —

         ‘Im the best beside the ford.

            Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,

            

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