THE LOST LEGION THERE'S a Legion that never was 'listed, But we've shaken the Clubs and the Messes (Dear boys!), To go and get shot and be damned. So some of us chivy the slaver, And some of us cherish the black, And some of us hunt on the Oil Coast, And some on-the Wallaby track: And some of us drift to Sarawak, And some of us drift up The Fly, And some share our tucker with tigers, And some with the gentle Masai (Dear boys!), Take tea with the giddy Masai. We've painted The Islands vermilion, From Sayyid Burgash in a tantrum We've a little account with Loben. The ends o' the Earth were our portion, To an I.D.B. race on the Pan (Dear boys!), With the Mounted Police on the Pan. We preach in advance of the Army, We skirmish ahead of the Church, With never a gunboat to help us When we're scuppered and left in the lurch. But we know as the cartridges finish, And we're filed on our last little shelves, That the Legion that never was 'listed Five hundred as good as ourselves. Then a health (we must drink it in whispers) The Gentlemen Rovers abroad Yes, a health to ourselves ere we scatter, For the steamer won't wait for the train, And the Legion that never was 'listed Goes back into quarters again! Goes back under canvas again. THE SEA-WIFE THERE dwells a wife by the Northern Gate, And a wealthy wife is she; She breeds a breed o' rovin' men And casts them over sea. And some are drowned in deep water, And word goes back to the weary wife For since that wife had gate or gear, She willed her sons to the white harvest, She wills her sons to the wet ploughing, To ride the horse of tree, And syne her sons come back again The good wife's sons come home again But the lore of men that ha' dealt with men But the faith of men that ha' brothered men By more than easy breath, And the eyes o' men that ha' read wi' men Rich are they, rich in wonders seen, But poor in the goods o' men; So what they ha' got by the skin o' their teeth They sell for their teeth again. For whether they lose to the naked life They tell it all to the weary wife Her hearth is wide to every wind (Out with great mirth that do desire In with content to wait their watch |