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Verses 1889-1896

Год написания книги
2017
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What ‘ope for me or – it?
What’s left for us to do?
I’ve walked with men a bit,
But this – but this is you.
So ‘elp me Christ, it’s true!
Where can I ‘ide or go?
You coward through and through!.
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

All the more you give ‘em the less are they for givin’ —
Love lies dead, an’ you cannot kiss ‘im livin’.
Down the road ‘e led you there is no returnin’
(Mary, pity women!), but you’re late in learnin’!

You’d like to treat me fair?
You can’t, because we’re pore?
We’d starve?  What do I care!
We might, but this is shore!
I want the name – no more —
The name, an’ lines to show,
An’ not to be an ‘ore..
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

What’s the good o’ pleadin’, when the mother that bore you
(Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you?
Sleep on ‘is promises an’ wake to your sorrow
(Mary, pity women!), for we sail to-morrow!

FOR TO ADMIRE

The Injian Ocean sets an’ smiles
So sof’, so bright, so bloomin’ blue;
There aren’t a wave for miles an’ miles
Excep’ the jiggle from the screw.
The ship is swep’, the day is done,
The bugle’s gone for smoke and play;
An’ black agin’ the settin’ sun
The Lascar sings, “Hum deckty hai!”                 [“I’m looking out.”]

For to admire an’ for to see,
For to be’old this world so wide —
It never done no good to me,
But I can’t drop it if I tried!

I see the sergeants pitchin’ quoits,
I ‘ear the women laugh an’ talk,
I spy upon the quarter-deck
The orficers an’ lydies walk.
I thinks about the things that was,
An’ leans an’ looks acrost the sea,
Till spite of all the crowded ship
There’s no one lef’ alive but me.

The things that was which I ‘ave seen,
In barrick, camp, an’ action too,
I tells them over by myself,
An’ sometimes wonders if they’re true;
For they was odd – most awful odd —
But all the same now they are o’er,
There must be ‘eaps o’ plenty such,
An’ if I wait I’ll see some more.

Oh, I ‘ave come upon the books,
An’ frequent broke a barrick rule,
An’ stood beside an’ watched myself
Be’avin’ like a bloomin’ fool.
I paid my price for findin’ out,
Nor never grutched the price I paid,
But sat in Clink without my boots,
Admirin’ ‘ow the world was made.

Be’old a crowd upon the beam,
An’ ‘umped above the sea appears
Old Aden, like a barrick-stove
That no one’s lit for years an’ years!
I passed by that when I began,
An’ I go ‘ome the road I came,
A time-expired soldier-man
With six years’ service to ‘is name.

My girl she said, “Oh, stay with me!”
My mother ‘eld me to ‘er breast.
They’ve never written none, an’ so
They must ‘ave gone with all the rest —
With all the rest which I ‘ave seen
An’ found an’ known an’ met along.
I cannot say the things I feel,
And so I sing my evenin’ song:

For to admire an’ for to see,
For to be’old this world so wide —
It never done no good to me,
But I can’t drop it if I tried!

L’ENVOI

When Earth’s last picture is painted and the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colours have faded, and the youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it – lie down for an ]aeon or two,
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