With a unanimity dear to patriot hearts, All these 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. Did they meet with Mukerji? Soothly who can say ? Yar Mahomed only grins in a nasty way, Jowar Singh is reticent, Chimbu follows suit, But the belts of all of them simply bulge with loot! What became of Rodda's guns? Afghans, black and grubby, Sell them for their silver weight to the men of Pubbie, And the shiny bowie-knife and the townmade sword are Hanging in a Marri hut just across the Border! What became of Mukerji? Ask Mahomed Yar, Prodding Shiva's sacred bull down the BowBazar, Speak to bovine Nabhi Baksh. Question land and sea, Ask the Indian Delegates-only don't ask me. MANDALAY By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastIward to the sea There's a Burmah girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me; For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple bells they say: British soldier; come Come you back, you Come you back to Mandalay, An' the dawn comes up like thunder 'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green, An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat-jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen. An' I seed her just a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot, An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on a 'eathen idol's foot: Bloomin' idol made o' mud Wot they called the Great Gawd Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud! C C When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow, She'd git her little banjo an' she'd sing Kulla-lo-lo! With her arm upon my shoulder an' her cheek agin' my cheek We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak. Elephints a-pilin' teak In the sludgy, squdgy creek, But that's all shove be'ind me-long ago an' fur away, An' there aint no busses running 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 trees an' the tinkly temple-bells; On the road to Mandalay ... I am sick o' wasting 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— On the road to Mandalay 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 ! O the road to Mandalay, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay! Marpessa, wooed by Apollo and Idas, determines to accept her mortal lover. "But if I live with Idas, then we two err. And I shall sleep beside him in the night, And, fearful from some dream, shall touch his hand, Secure; or at some festival we two Will wander through the lighted city streets; And in the crowd I'll take his arm and feel Him closer for the press. So shall we live. And though the first sweet sting of love be past The sweet that almost venom is, though youth, With tender and extravagant delight, The first and secret kiss by twilight hedge, The insane farewell repeated o'er and o'er, Pass off; there shall succeed a faithful peace; Beautiful friendship tried by sun and wind, Durable from the daily dust of life. |