Page:The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling (IA cu31924057346631).pdf/52

 (March 28, 1884.)

tumult in the Khyber,
 * There's feud at Ali Kheyl;

For the Maliks of the Khyber
 * Are at it tooth and nail&mdash;

With the stolen British carbine
 * And the long Kohat jezail.

And I look across the ramparts
 * To the northward and the snow&mdash;

To the far Cherat cantonments;
 * But alas! I cannot go

From the dusty, dreary ramparts
 * Where the cannons grin arow!

There's fighting in the Khyber,
 * But it isn't meant for me,

Who am sent upon "Fort-duty"
 * By this pestilent Ravi,

With just one other subaltern,
 * And not a soul to see.

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