Danny Deever
by Rudyard Kipling
|
| "What are the bugles blowin’ for?" said
Files-on-Parade. |
| "To turn you out, to turn you out," The
Colour-Sergeant said. |
| "What makes you look so white, so
white?" said Files-on-Parade. |
| "I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got to watch,"
the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| For they’re hangin’
Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play, |
| The Regiment’s in
’ollow square―they’re hangin’ him to-day; |
| The’ve taken of his
buttons off an’ cut his stripes away, |
An’ they’re hangin’
Danny Deever in the mornin’.
|
| "What makes the rear-rank breathe so ’ard?"
said Files-on-Parade. |
| "It’s bitter cold, it’s bitter cold,"
the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| "What makes that front-rank man fall
down?" said Files-on-Parade. |
| "A touch o’ sun, a touch o’ sun," the
Colour-Sergeant said. |
| They are hangin’
Danny Deever, they are marchin’ of ’im round, |
| They ’ave ’alted
Danny Deever by ’is coffin on the ground; |
| An’ ’e'll swing in
’arf a minute for a sneakin’ shootin’ hound― |
O they’re hangin’
Danny Deever in the mornin’!
|
| "Is cot was right-’and cot to mine,"
said Files-on-Parade. |
| "E’s sleepin’ out an’ far to-night,"
The Colour-Sergeant said. |
| "I’ve drunk ’is beer a score o’ times,
said Files on Parade, |
| "E’s drinkin’ bitter beer alone," the
Colour-Sergeant said. |
| They are hangin’
Danny Deever, you must mark ’im to ’is place, |
| For ’e shot a
comrade sleepin’―you must look ’im in the face; |
| Nine ’undred of ’is
county an’ the Regiment’s disgrace, |
While they’re hangin’
Danny Deever in the mornin’.
|
| "What’s that so black agin the sun?"
said Files-on-Parade. |
| "It’s Danny fightin’ ’ard for life,"
the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| "What’s that that whimpers over ’ead?"
said Files-on-Parage. |
| "It’s Danny’s soul that’s passin’ now,"
the Colour-Sergeant said. |
| For they’re done
with Danny Deever, you can ‘ear the quickstep play, |
| The Regiment’s in
column, an’ they’re marchin’ us away; |
| Ho! The young
recruits are shakin’, an’ they’ll want their beer
to-day, |
After hangin’ Danny
Deever in the mornin’!
|
| Rudyard
Kipling |
Classic Poems |
| |
|
[ If ] [ The Way Through the Woods ] [ Danny Deever ] [ Recessional ] [ Tommy ] [ The White Man's Burden ] [ Chant-Pagan ] [ The Deep Sea Cables ] [ The Dykes ] [ Gunga Din ] [ The Gods of the Copybook Headings ] [ Fuzzy-Wuzzy ] [ The Land ] [ The Old Men ] [ My Rival ] |
