Page:Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads, Kipling, 1899.djvu/237

 THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER CATTLE THIEF

is me for the merry life

I led beyond the Bar,

And a treble woe for my winsome wife

That weeps at Shalimar.

They have taken away my long jezail,

My shield and sabre fine,

And heaved me into the Central Jail

For lifting of the kine.

The steer may low within the byre,

The Jut may tend his grain,

But there'll be neither loot nor fire

Till I come back again.

And God have mercy on the Jut

When once my fetters fall,

And Heaven defend the farmer's hut

When I am loosed from thrall.

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