Page:The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling (IA cu31924057346631).pdf/57

 In steamy mists of moist Bombay,
 * Or dreary Dum-dum "lines,"

Or where Karachi dust-storms play,
 * An O.U.S.C. pines.

Some watch the tender tea-plant grow
 * In gardens of Cachar;

Some wait at Quetta for the slow
 * Sure-coming frontier war.

By Naga Hills our feet are set,
 * Or swamps of North Bengal;

Some spend their leave in far Thibet,
 * Some get no leave at all.

Some lead the R.A. guns afield
 * (At least upon parade),

Some watch lest Kutcha dams may yield
 * To rifts the rains have made.

Some write voluminous reports
 * On "forest land increase,"

Some work at survey in the Ghats,
 * And some in the Police.

Some prance beside their gorah-log
 * On bony beasts and strange,

Some test, at Murree or Jutogh,
 * The flashing signal's range.

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