"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"
"I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white --

An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

I'll up an' tend to my true love!"
"'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,

An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

I'll down an' die with my true love!"
"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im --

An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

Do you bring no sign from my true love?"
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,

An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,

O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"
"An' I tell you truth again -- when you've lost the feel o' pain

You'd best take me for your true love."
True love! New love!

Best take 'im for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,

An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
SCREW-GUNS

Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin' cool,
I walks in my old brown gaiters along o' my old brown mule,

With seventy gunners be'ind me, an' never a beggar forgets
It's only the pick of the Army

that handles the dear little pets -- 'Tss! 'Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns -- the screw-guns they all love you!

So when we call round with a few guns,
o' course you will know what to do -- hoo! hoo!

Jest send in your Chief an' surrender --
it's worse if you fights or you runs:

You can go where you please, you can skid up the trees,
but you don't get away from the guns!

They sends us along where the roads are, but mostly we goes where they ain't:
We'd climb up the side of a sign-board an' trust to the stick o' the paint:

We've chivied the Naga an' Looshai, we've give the Afreedeeman fits,
For we fancies ourselves at two thousand,

we guns that are built in two bits -- 'Tss! 'Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns . . .

If a man doesn't work, why, we drills 'im an' teaches 'im 'ow to behave;
If a beggar can't march, why, we kills 'im an' rattles 'im into 'is grave.

You've got to stand up to our business an' spring without snatchin' or fuss.
D'you say that you sweat with the field-guns?

By God, you must lather with us -- 'Tss! 'Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns . . .

The eagles is screamin' around us, the river's a-moanin' below,
We're clear o' the pine an' the oak-scrub,

we're out on the rocks an' the snow,
An' the wind is as thin as a whip-lash what carries away to the plains

The rattle an' stamp o' the lead-mules --
the jinglety-jink o' the chains -- 'Tss! 'Tss!

For you all love the screw-guns . . .
There's a wheel on the Horns o' the Mornin',

an' a wheel on the edge o' the Pit,
An' a drop into nothin' beneath you as straight as a beggar can spit:

With the sweat runnin' out o' your shirt-sleeves,
an' the sun off the snow in your face,

An' 'arf o' the men on the drag-ropes
to hold the old gun in 'er place -- 'Tss! 'Tss!

For you all love the screw-guns . . .
Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin' cool,

I climbs in my old brown gaiters along o' my old brown mule.
The monkey can say what our road was --

the wild-goat 'e knows where we passed.
Stand easy, you long-eared old darlin's!

Out drag-ropes! With shrapnel! Hold fast -- 'Tss! 'Tss!
For you all love the screw-guns -- the screw-guns they all love you!

So when we take tea with a few guns,
o' course you will know what to do -- hoo! hoo!

Jest send in your Chief an' surrender --
it's worse if you fights or you runs:

You may hide in the caves, they'll be only your graves,
but you can't get away from the guns!

CELLS
I've a head like a concertina: I've a tongue like a button-stick:

I've a mouth like an old potato, and I'm more than a little sick,
But I've had my fun o' the Corp'ral's Guard: I've made the cinders fly,

And I'm here in the Clink for a thundering drink
and blacking the Corporal's eye.

With a second-handovercoat under my head,
And a beautiful view of the yard,

O it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.
For "drunk and resisting the Guard!"

Mad drunk and resisting the Guard --
'Strewth, but I socked it them hard!

So it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.
For "drunk and resisting the Guard."

I started o' canteen porter, I finished o' canteen beer,
But a dose o' gin that a mate slipped in, it was that that brought me here.

'Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed my nose in the dirt;
But I fell away with the Corp'ral's stock

and the best of the Corp'ral's shirt.
I left my cap in a public-house, my boots in the public road,

And Lord knows where, and I don't care, my belt and my tunic goed;
They'll stop my pay, they'll cut away the stripes I used to wear,

But I left my mark on the Corp'ral's face, and I think he'll keep it there!
My wife she cries on the barrack-gate, my kid in the barrack-yard,

It ain't that I mind the Ord'ly room -- it's ~that~ that cuts so hard.
I'll take my oath before them both that I will sure abstain,

But as soon as I'm in with a mate and gin, I know I'll do it again!
With a second-handovercoat under my head,

And a beautiful view of the yard,
Yes, it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.

For "drunk and resisting the Guard!"
Mad drunk and resisting the Guard --

'Strewth, but I socked it them hard!
So it's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.

For "drunk and resisting the Guard."
GUNGA DIN

You may talk o' gin and beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,

An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter

You will do your work on water,
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.

Now in Injia's sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time

A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew

The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.

He was "Din! Din! Din!
You limpin' lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din!

Hi! slippery ~hitherao~!
Water, get it! ~Panee lao~! [Bring water swiftly.]

You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din."
The uniform 'e wore

Was nothin' much before,
An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind,

For a piece o' twisty rag
An' a goatskin water-bag

Was all the field-equipment 'e could find.
When the sweatin' troop-train lay

In a sidin' through the day,
Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl,

We shouted "Harry By!" [Mr. Atkins's equivalent for "O brother."]
Till our throats were bricky-dry,

Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all.
It was "Din! Din! Din!

You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been?
You put some ~juldee~ in it [Be quick.]

Or I'll ~marrow~ you this minute [Hit you.]
If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!"

'E would dot an' carry one
Till the longest day was done;

An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,

You could bet your bloomin' nut,
'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear.

With 'is ~mussick~ on 'is back, [Water-skin.]
'E would skip with our attack,

An' watch us till the bugles made "Retire",
An' for all 'is dirty 'ide

'E was white, clear white, inside
When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire!

It was "Din! Din! Din!"
With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green.

When the cartridges ran out,
You could hear the front-files shout,

"Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!"
I shan't forgit the night

When I dropped be'ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been.

I was chokin' mad with thirst,
An' the man that spied me first

Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din.
'E lifted up my 'ead,

An' he plugged me where I bled,
An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water-green:

It was crawlin' and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I've drunk,

I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was "Din! Din! Din!

'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen;
'E's chawin' up the ground,

An' 'e's kickin' all around:
For Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din!"

'E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,

An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean.
'E put me safe inside,

An' just before 'e died,
"I 'ope you liked your drink", sez Gunga Din.

So I'll meet 'im later on
At the place where 'e is gone --

Where it's always double drill and no canteen;
'E'll be squattin' on the coals

Givin' drink to poor damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!

Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!

Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,

You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
OONTS

(Northern India Transport Train)
Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 'im to perspire?

• bullet [´bulit] n.子弹 (初中英语单词)
• beggar [´begə] n.乞丐 (初中英语单词)
• surrender [sə´rendə] vt.&n.交出；引渡；放弃 (初中英语单词)
• mostly [´məustli] ad.主要地；多半；通常 (初中英语单词)
• rattle [´rætl] n.嘎吱声 (初中英语单词)
• monkey [´mʌŋki] n.猴子 v.乱弄；胡闹 (初中英语单词)
• second-hand [,sekənd´hænd] a.用过的；间接的 (初中英语单词)
• majesty [´mædʒisti] n.壮丽；崇高；尊严 (初中英语单词)
• mischief [´mistʃif] n.伤害；故障；调皮 (初中英语单词)
• helmet [´helmit] n.钢盔 (初中英语单词)
• transport [træn´spɔ:t] n.运输；流放 (初中英语单词)
• overcoat [´əuvəkəut] n.大衣 (高中英语单词)
• porter [´pɔ:tə] n.守门人；勤杂工人 (高中英语单词)
• slippery [´slipəri] a.滑的；不稳固的 (高中英语单词)
• equivalent [i´kwivələnt] a.相等的 n.同等物 (高中英语单词)
• damned [dæmd] a.该死的 ad.非常，极 (高中英语单词)