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(Regular of the Line)
I DO not love my Empire’s foes, | |
| Nor call ’em angels; still, | |
| What is the sense of ’atin’ those | |
| ’Oom you are paid to kill? | |
| So, barrin’ all that foreign lot | 5 |
| Which only joined for spite, | |
| Myself, I’d just as soon as not | |
| Respect the man I fight. | |
| Ah there, Piet!—’is trousies to ’is knees, | |
| ’Is coat-tails lyin’ level in the bullet-sprinkled breeze; | 10 |
| ’E does not lose ’is rifle an’ ’e does not lose ’is seat, | |
| I’ve known a lot o’ people ride a dam’ sight worse than Piet. | |
| |
| I’ve ’eard ’im cryin’ from the ground | |
| Like Abel’s blood of old, | |
| An’ skirmished out to look, an’ found | 15 |
| The beggar nearly cold. | |
| I’ve waited on till ’e was dead | |
| (Which couldn’t ’elp ’im much), | |
| But many grateful things ’e ’s said | |
| To me for doin’ such. | 20 |
| Ah there, Piet! whose time ’as come to die, | |
| ’Is carcase past rebellion, but ’is eyes inquirin’ why. | |
| Though dressed in stolen uniform with badge o’ rank complete, | |
| I’ve known a lot o’ fellers go a dam’ sight worse than Piet. | |
| |
| An’ when there was n’t aught to do | 25 |
| But camp and cattle-guards, | |
| I’ve fought with ’im the ’ole day through | |
| At fifteen ’undred yards; | |
| Long afternoons o’ lyin’ still, | |
| An’ ’earin’ as you lay | 30 |
| The bullets swish from ’ill to ’ill | |
| Like scythes among the ’ay. | |
| Ah there, Piet!—be’ind ’is stony kop. | |
| With ’is Boer bread an’ biltong, 1 an’ ’is flask of awful Dop; 2 | |
| ’Is Mauser for amusement an’ ’is pony for retreat, | 35 |
| I’ve known a lot o’ fellers shoot a dam’ sight worse than Piet. | |
| |
| He’s shoved ’is rifle ’neath my nose | |
| Before I’d time to think, | |
| An’ borrowed all my Sunday clo’es | |
| An’ sent me ’ome in pink; | 40 |
| An’ I ’ave crept (Lord, ’ow I’ve crept!) | |
| On ’ands an’ knees I’ve gone, | |
| And spoored and floored and caught and kept | |
| An’ sent him to Ceylon! | |
| Ah there, Piet!—you’ve sold me many a pup, | 45 |
| When week on week alternate it was you an’ me “’ands up!” | |
| But though I never made you walk man-naked in the ’eat, | |
| I’ve known a lot of fellows stalk a dam’ sight worse than Piet. | |
| |
| From Plewman’s to Marabastad, | |
| From Ookiep to De Aar, | 50 |
| Me an’ my trusty friend ’ave ’ad, | |
| As you might say, a war; | |
| But seein’ what both parties done | |
| Before ’e owned defeat, | |
| I ain’t more proud of ’avin’ won, | 55 |
| Than I am pleased with Piet. | |
| Ah there, Piet!—picked up be’ind the drive! | |
| The wonder wasn’t ’ow ’e fought, but ’ow ’e kep’ alive, | |
| With nothin’ in ’is belly, on ’is back, or to ’is feet— | |
| I’ve known a lot o’ men behave a dam’ sight worse than Piet. | 60 |
| |
| No more I’ll ’ear ’is rifle crack | |
| Along the block’ouse fence— | |
| The beggar’s on the peaceful tack, | |
| Regardless of expense; | |
| For countin’ what ’e eats an’ draws, | 65 |
| An’ gifts an’ loans as well, | |
| ’E’s gettin’ ’alf the Earth, because | |
| ’E didn’t give us ’Ell! | |
| Ah there, Piet! with your brand-new English plough, | |
| Your gratis tents an’ cattle, an’ your most ungrateful frow, | 70 |
| You’ve made the British taxpayer rebuild your country-seat— | |
| I’ve known some pet battalions charge a dam’ sight less than Piet. | |
