Rudyard Kipling ( )


Barrack-Room Ballads. 17. Troopin. Old English Army in the East


Troopin, troopin, troopin to the sea:
Eres September come again  
                              the six-year men are free.
O leave the dead beind us, 
                              for they cannot come away
To where the ships a-coalin 
                              up that takes us ome to-day.
   	Were goin ome, were goin ome,
    		Our ship is at the shore,
   	An you must pack your aversack,
    		For we wont come back no more.
   	Ho, dont you grieve for me,
    		My lovely Mary-Ann,
   	For Ill marry you yit on a fourpny bit
    		As a time-expired man.
 
The Malabars in arbour 
                              with the Jumner at er tail,
An the time-expireds waitin 
                              of is orders for to sail.
Ho! the weary waitin 
                              when on Khyber ills we lay,
But the time-expireds waitin 
                              of is orders ome to-day.
 
Theyll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf 
                              in cold an wet an rain,
All wearin Injian cotton kit, 
                              but we will not complain;
Theyll kill us of pneumonia  
                              for thats their little way 
But damn the chills and fever, men, 
                              were goin ome to-day!
 
Troopin, troopin, winters round again!
See the new drafs pourin 
                              in for the old campaign;
Ho, you poor recruities, 
                              but youve got to earn your pay 
Whats the last from Lunnon, lads?  
                              Were goin there to-day.
 
Troopin, troopin, give another cheer 
Eres to English women 
                              an a quart of English beer.
The Colonel an the regiment 
                              an all whove got to stay,
Gawds mercy strike em gentle  
                              Whoop! were goin ome to-day.
    	Were goin ome, were goin ome,
     		Our ship is at the shore,
    	An you must pack your aversack,
     		For we wont come back no more.
    	Ho, dont you grieve for me,
     		My lovely Mary-Ann,
    	For Ill marry you yit on a fourpny bit
     		As a time-expired man.





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Rudyard Kipling's other poems:
  1. The Beginner
  2. Debits and Credits. (1919-1926). 17. Untimely
  3. A History of England. 1911. 17. The American Rebellion
  4. The Jester
  5. A History of England. 1911. 20. The Secret of the Machines


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