Page:Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads, Kipling, 1899.djvu/140

 THE MOON OF OTHER DAYS

the deep verandah's shade,

When bats begin to fly,

I sit me down and watch—alas

Another evening die.

Blood-red behind the sere ferash

She rises through the haze.

Sainted Diana! can that be

The Moon of Other Days?

Ah! shade of little Kitty Smith,

Sweet Saint of Kensington!

Say, was it ever thus at Home

The Moon of August shone,

When arm in arm we wandered long

Through Putney's evening haze,

And Hammersmith was Heaven beneath

The Moon of Other Days?

But Wandle's stream is Sutlej now,

And Putney's evening haze 126