Songs of Action

Or my sub will get his rise.

‘So we’ll wait the signal rocket,
Till.. Barrow, show that locket,
That turquoise-studded locket,
Which you slipped from out your pocket
And are pressing with a kiss!
Turquoise-studded, spiral-twisted,
It is hers!  And I had missed it
From her chain; and you have kissed it:
Barrow, villain, what is this?’

‘Leroy, I had a warning,
That my time has come this morning,
So I speak with frankness, scorning
To deny the thing that’s true.
Yes, it’s Amy’s, is the trinket,
Little turquoise-studded trinket,
Not her gift – oh, never think it!
For her thoughts were all for you.

‘As we danced I gently drew it
From her chain – she never knew it
But I love her – yes, I love her:
I am candid, I confess.
But I never told her, never,
For I knew ’twas vain endeavour,
And she loved you – loved you ever,
Would to God she loved you less!’

‘Barrow, Barrow, you shall pay me!
Me, your comrade, to betray me!
Well I know that little Amy
Is as true as wife can be.
She to give this love-badged locket!
She had rather.. Ha, the rocket!
Hi, McDougall!  Sound the bugle!
Yorkshires, Yorkshires, follow me!’

* * * * *

Said Paul Leroy to Amy,
‘Well, wifie, you may blame me,
For my passion overcame me,
When he told me of his shame;
But when I saw him lying,
Dead amid a ring of dying,
Why, poor devil, I was trying
To forget, and not to blame.

‘And this locket, I unclasped it
From the fingers that still grasped it:
He told me how he got it,
How he stole it in a valse.’
And she listened leaden-hearted:
Oh, the weary day they parted!
For she loved him – yes, she loved him —
For his youth and for his truth,
And for those dying words, so false.

THE FRONTIER LINE

What marks the frontier line?
Thou man of India, say!
Is it the Himalayas sheer,
The rocks and valleys of Cashmere,
Or Indus as she seeks the south
From Attoch to the fivefold mouth?
‘Not that!  Not that!’
Then answer me, I pray!
What marks the frontier line?

What marks the frontier line?
Thou man of Burmah, speak!
Is it traced from Mandalay,
And down the marches of Cathay,
From Bhamo south to Kiang-mai,
And where the buried rubies lie?
‘Not that!  Not that!’
Then tell me what I seek:
What marks the frontier line?

What marks the frontier line?
Thou Africander, say!
Is it shown by Zulu kraal,
By Drakensberg or winding Vaal,
Or where the Shiré waters seek
Their outlet east at Mozambique?
‘Not that!  Not that!
There is a surer way
To mark the frontier line.’

What marks the frontier line?
Thou man of Egypt, tell!
Is it traced on Luxor’s sand,
Where Karnak’s painted pillars stand,
Or where the river runs between
The Ethiop and Bishareen?
‘Not that!  Not that!
By neither stream nor well