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[10 May 2008|02:07am] |
Been doing some poems-reading these few days. Here's two that I really like:
The Night Has a Thousand Eyes
by Francis William Bourdillan
The Night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand ees,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole world dies
When love is done.
Next is a pretty long one.
Tommy
-by Rudyard Kipling
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, 'We serve no red-coats here.'
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the streets 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 civillian room, but 'andn't none for me;
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!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' Tommy wait
outside';
But it's 'Special train for Atkins' when the troopers on the
tide-,
O it's 'Special train for Atkins' when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap,
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' Tommy, 'ow's yer
soul?
But it's 'Thin red line of heroes' when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O' it's 'Thin red line of heroes' when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thind red heroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barracks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why single men in barracks 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.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it'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;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy htat, an' Tommy anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't no blooming fool - you bet that Tommy sees!
To all the guys doing NS out there=p
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