Page:Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads, Kipling, 1899.djvu/65

Rh Indeed, indeed, Retrenchment oft before

I swore—but did I mean it when I swore?

And then, and then, We wandered to the Hills,

And so the Little Less became Much More.

Whether a Boileaugunge or Babylon,

I know not how the wretched Thing is done,

The Items of Receipt grow surely small;

The Items of Expense mount one by one.

I cannot help it. What have I to do

With One and Five, or Four, or Three, or Two?

Let Scribes spit Blood and Sulphur as they please,

Or Statesmen call me foolish—Heed not you.

Behold, I promise— Anything You will.

Behold, I greet you with an empty Till—

Ah! Fellow-Sinners, of your Charity

Seek not the Reason of the Dearth, but fill.

For if I sinned and fell, where lies the Gain

Of Knowledge? Would it ease you of your Pain

To know the tangled Threads of Revenue

I ravel deeper in a hopeless Skein?