Page:Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads, Kipling, 1899.djvu/81

Rh Does the tempest cry halt? What are tempests to him?

The service admits not a "but" or an "if."

While the breath's in his mouth, he must bear without fail,

In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail.

From aloe to rose-oak, from rose-oak to fir,

From level to upland, from upland to crest,

From rice-field to rock-ridge, from rock-ridge to spur,

Fly the soft-sandalled feet, strains the scrawny brown chest.

From rail to ravine—to the peak from the vale—

Up, up through the night goes the Overland Mail.

There's a speck on the hill-side, a dot on the road—

A jingle of bells on the foot-path below—

There's a scuffle above in the monkey's abode—

The world is awake and the clouds are aglow.

For the great Sun himself must attend to the hail:—

"In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail!"