By Rudyard Kipling
First accrued in 1892, Kipling's Barrack-Room Ballads relive the reviews of infantrymen despatched around the globe to protect the Empire-all for little pay and no more appreciation. an instantaneous good fortune, they have been not like whatever the general public had noticeable prior to.
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Extra resources for Barrack-Room Ballads
On the road to Mandalay . . ’’ 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 . . 16 Great Gawd Budd Buddha 22 hathis Hindustani for elephants 41 15 20 25 30 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 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?
11 chivied harassed Naga an’ Looshai hill tribes on India’s Northwest frontier Afreedeeman the Afridi tribe 15 5 10 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 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 . . The eagles is screamin’ around us, the river’s amoanin’ below, We’re clear o’ the pine an’ the oak-scrub, we’re out on the rocks an’ the snow, An’ the wind is as thin as a whip-lash what carries away to the plains The rattle an’ stamp o’ the lead-mules—the jinglety-jink o’ the chains—’Tss!
Soldier, Soldier A traditional ballad on the theme of women awaiting news of their men fighting abroad. A trifle sentimental, it nevertheless captures the heartbreak and regular losses experienced by those left behind. ’’ 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. ’’ 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.
Barrack-Room Ballads by Rudyard Kipling