Page:The Seven Seas (Kipling, 1896).djvu/104

82 So we ride the iron stallions down to drink,

Through the cañons to the waters of the West!

And the tunes that mean so much to you alone—

Common tunes that make you choke and blow your nose,

Vulgar tunes that bring the laugh that brings the groan—

I can rip your very heartstrings out with those;

With the feasting, and the folly, and the fun—

And the lying, and the lusting, and the drink,

And the merry play that drops you, when you're done,

To the thoughts that burn like irons if you think.

With my ' Plunka-lunka-lunka-lunka-lunk! '

Here's a trifle on account of pleasure past,

Ere the wit that made you win gives you eyes to see your sin

And the heavier repentance at the last!