Mr. Rudyard Kipling's Verse

'Thence the taleComes westward o'er the peaks of In-di-a'!

'By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"Come you back to Mandalay,Where the old Flotilla lay:Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?On the road to Mandalay,Where the flyin'-fishes play,An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

''Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green.An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat, jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:

Bloomin' idol made o' mud—Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd—Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!On the road to Mandalay . . .********'I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?Beefy face an' grubby 'and—Law! wot do they understand?I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!On the road to Mandalay . . .

'Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be—By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;On the road to Mandalay,Where the old Flotilla lay,With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!O the road to Mandalay,Where the flyin'-fishes play,An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!'