BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS “BACK TO THE ARMY AGAIN” I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at, “BIRDS OF PREY” MARCH March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies, “SOLDIER AN' SAILOR TOO” As I was spitting into the Ditch aboard o' the _Crocodile_, SAPPERS When the Waters were dried an' the Earth did appear, THAT DAY It got beyond all orders an' it got beyond all 'ope, “THE MEN THAT FOUGHT AT MINDEN” The men that fought at Minden, they was rookies in their time, CHOLERA CAMP We've got the cholerer in camp -- it's worse than forty fights, THE LADIES I've taken my fun where I've found it, BILL 'AWKINS “'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins?” THE MOTHER-LODGE There was Rundle, Station Master, “FOLLOW ME 'OME” There was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot, THE SERGEANT'S WEDDIN' 'E was warned agin 'er, THE JACKET Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' Arabi, THE 'EATHEN The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone, THE SHUT-EYE SENTRY Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant, “MARY, PITY WOMEN!” You call yourself a man, FOR TO ADMIRE The Injian Ocean sets an' smiles, L'ENVOI When Earth's last picture is painted and the tubes are twisted and dried, BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS AND OTHER VERSES 1889-1891 TO WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled -- Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled -- Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world. They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays, They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of the Elder Days, It is their will to serve or be still as fitteth our Father's praise. 'Tis theirs to sweep through the ringing deep where Azrael's outposts are, Or buffet a path through the Pit's red wrath when God goes out to war, Or hang with the reckless Seraphim on the rein of a red-maned star. They take their mirth in the joy of the Earth -- they dare not grieve for her pain -- They know of toil and the end of toil, they know 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 His daily toil, of Edens newly made; And they rise to their feet as He passes by, gentlemen unafraid. To these who are cleansed of base Desire, Sorrow and Lust and Shame -- Gods for they knew the hearts of men, men for they stooped to Fame, Borne on the breath that men call Death, my brother's spirit came. He scarce had need to doff 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.