Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/327

 WOE 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 Jat may tend his grain, But there'll be neither loot nor fire Till I come back again.

And God have mercy on the Jat When once my fetters fall, And Heaven defend the farmer's hut When I am loosed from thrall.

It's woe to bend the stubborn back Above the grinching quern, It's woe to hear the leg-bar clack And jingle when I turn!

But for the sorrow and the shame, The brand on me and mine, I'll pay you back in leaping flame And loss of the butchered kine.