Poem Rudyard Kipling

A Ballade of Burial

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If down here I chance to die,
 Solemnly I beg you take
All that is left of “I”
 To the Hills for old sake’s sake,
Pack me very thoroughly
 In the ice that used to slake
Pegs I drank when I was dry —
 This observe for old sake’s sake.

To the railway station hie,
 There a single ticket take
For Umballa — goods-train — I
 Shall not mind delay or shake.
I shall rest contentedly
 Spite of clamor coolies make;
Thus in state and dignity
 Send me up for old sake’s sake.

Next the sleepy Babu wake,
 Book a Kalka van “for four.”
Few, I think, will care to make
 Journeys with me any more
As they used to do of yore.
 I shall need a “special” break —
Thing I never took before —
 Get me one for old sake’s sake.

After that — arrangements make.
 No hotel will take me in,
And a bullock’s back would break
 ‘Neath the teak and leaden skin
Tonga ropes are frail and thin,
 Or, did I a back-seat take,
In a tonga I might spin, —
 Do your best for old sake’s sake.

After that — your work is done.
 Recollect a Padre must
Mourn the dear departed one —
 Throw the ashes and the dust.
Don’t go down at once. I trust
 You will find excuse to “snake
Three days’ casual on the bust.”
 Get your fun for old sake’s sake.

I could never stand the Plains.
 Think of blazing June and May
Think of those September rains
 Yearly till the Judgment Day!
I should never rest in peace,
 I should sweat and lie awake.
Rail me then, on my decease,
 To the Hills for old sake’s sake.

The Ballad of the Cars
The Ballad of 'Bolivar'

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