Shillin' a Day
My name is O'Kelly, I've heard the RevellyFrom Birr to Bareilly, from Leeds to Lahore,Hong-Kong and Peshawur,Lucknow and Etawah,And fifty-five more all endin' in “pore”.Black Death and his quickness, the depth and the thickness,Of sorrow and sickness I've known on my way,But I'm old and I'm nervis,I'm cast from the Service,And all I deserve is a shillin' a day.(Chorus) Shillin' a day,Bloomin' good pay--Lucky to touch it, a shillin' a day!
Oh, it drives me half crazy to think of the days IWent slap for the Ghazi, my sword at my side,When we rode Hell-for-leatherBoth squadrons together,That didn't care whether we lived or we died.But it's no use despairin', my wife must go charin'An' me commissairin' the pay-bills to better,So if me you be'oldIn the wet and the cold,By the Grand Metropold, won't you give me a letter?(Full chorus) Give 'im a letter--'Can't do no better,Late Troop-Sergeant-Major an'--runs with a letter!Think what 'e's been,Think what 'e's seen,Think of his pension an'----
There's a little red-faced man,Which is Bobs,Rides the tallest 'orse 'e can-Our Bobs,If it bucks or kicks or rears,'E can sit for twenty yearsWith a smile round both 'is ears-Can't yer, Bobs?
Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!'E's our pukka Kandahader-Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!'E's the Dook of Aggy Chel;'E's the man that done us well,An' we'll follow 'im to 'ell-Won't we Bobs?
If a limber's slipped a trace,'Ook on Bobs.If a marker's lost 'is place,Dress by Bobs.For 'e's eyes all up 'is coat,An' a bugle in 'is throat,An' you will not play the goatUnder Bobs.
'E's a little down on drink,Chaplain Bobs;But it keeps us outer Clink-Don't it Bobs?So we will not complainTho' 'e's water on the brain,If 'e leads us straight again-Blue-light Bobs.
If you stood 'im on 'is headFather Bobs,You could spill a quart o' leadOuter Bobs.'E's been at it thirty years,An' amassin' souveneersIn the way o' slugs an' spears-Ain't yer, Bobs?
What 'e does not Know o' war,Gen'ral Bobs,You can arst the shop next door-Can't they, Bobs?Oh, 'e's little, but he's wise;'E's a terror for 'is size,An'-'e-does-not-advertise-Do yer, Bobs?
Now they've made a bloomin' LordOuter Bobs,Which was but 'is fair reward-Weren't it Bobs?So 'e'll wear a coronetWhere 'is 'elmet used to set;But we know you won't forget-Will yer, Bobs?
Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur--Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!Pocket-Wellin'ton an' arder--Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs!This ain't no bloomin' ode,But you've 'elped the soldier's load,An' for benefits bestowed,Bless yer, Bobs!
I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at,A-layin' on to the sergeant I don't know a gun from a bat;My shirt's doin' duty for jacket, my sock's stickin' out o' my boots,An' I'm learnin' the damned old goose-step along o' the new recruits!
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again.Don't look so 'ard, for I 'aven't no card,I'm back to the Army again!
I done my six years' service. 'Er Majesty sez: “Good-day--You'll please to come when you're rung for, an' 'ere's your 'ole back-pay;An' fourpence a day for baccy--an' bloomin' gen'rous, too;An' now you can make your fortune--the same as your orf'cers do.”
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again;'Ow did I learn to do right-about turn?I'm back to the Army again!
A man o' four-an'-twenty that 'asn't learned of a trade--Beside “Reserve” agin' him--'e'd better be never made.I tried my luck for a quarter, an' that was enough for me,An' I thought of 'Er Majesty's barricks, an' I thought I'd go an' see.
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again;'Tisn't my fault if I dress when I 'alt--I'm back to the Army again!
The sergeant arst no questions, but 'e winked the other eye,'E sez to me, “'Shun!” an' I shunted, the same as in days gone by;For 'e saw the set o' my shoulders, an' I couldn't 'elp 'oldin' straightWhen me an' the other rookies come under the barrick-gate.
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again;'Oo would ha' thought I could carry an' port?I'm back to the Army again!
I took my bath, an' I wallered--for, Gawd, I needed it so!I smelt the smell o' the barricks, I 'eard the bugles go.I 'eard the feet on the gravel--the feet o' the men what drill--An' I sez to my flutterin' 'eart-strings, I sez to 'em, “Peace, be still!”
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again;'Oo said I knew when the Jumner was due?I'm back to the Army again!
I carried my slops to the tailor; I sez to 'im, “None o' your lip!You tight 'em over the shoulders, an' loose 'em over the 'ip,For the set o' the tunic's 'orrid.” An' 'e sez to me, “Strike me dead,But I thought you was used to the business!” an' so 'e done what I said.
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again.Rather too free with my fancies? Wot--me?I'm back to the Army again!
Next week I'll 'ave 'em fitted; I'll buy me a swagger-cane;They'll let me free o' the barricks to walk on the Hoe againIn the name o' William Parsons, that used to be Edward Clay,An'--any pore beggar that wants it can draw my fourpence a day!
Back to the Army again, sergeant,Back to the Army again:Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant,Out o' the cold an' the rain.
'Oo's there?A man that's too good to be lost you,A man that is 'andled an' made--A man that will pay what 'e cost youIn learnin' the others their trade--parade!You're droppin' the pick o' the ArmyBecause you don't 'elp 'em remain,But drives 'em to cheat to get out o' the streetAn' back to the Army again!
March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies.Front!--eyes front, an' watch the Colour-casin's drip.Front! The faces of the women in the 'ousesAin't the kind o' things to take aboard the ship.
Cheer! An' we'll never march to victory.Cheer! An' we'll never live to 'ear the cannon roar!The Large Birds o' PreyThey will carry us away,An' you'll never see your soldiers any more!
Wheel! Oh, keep your touch; we're goin' round a corner.Time!--mark time, an' let the men be'ind us close.Lord! the transport's full, an' 'alf our lot not on 'er--Cheer, O cheer! We're going off where no one knows.
March! The Devil's none so black as 'e is painted!Cheer! We'll 'ave some fun before we're put away.'Alt, an' 'and 'er out--a woman's gone and fainted!Cheer! Get on--Gawd 'elp the married men to-day!
Hoi! Come up, you 'ungry beggars, to yer sorrow.You won't have no mind for slingers, not to-morrow--No; you'll put the 'tween-decks stove out, bein' sick!
'Alt! The married kit 'as all to go before us!'Course it's blocked the bloomin' gangway up again!Cheer, O cheer the 'Orse Guards watchin' tender o'er us,Keepin' us since eight this mornin' in the rain!
Stuck in 'eavy marchin'-order, sopped and wringin'--Sick, before our time to watch 'er 'eave an' fall,'Ere's your 'appy 'ome at last, an' stop your singin'.'Alt! Fall in along the troop-deck! Silence all!
Cheer! For we'll never live to see no bloomin' victory!Cheer! An' we'll never live to 'ear the cannon roar! (One cheer more!)The jackal an' the kite'Ave an 'ealthy appetite,An' you'll never see your soldiers any more! ['Ip! Urroar!)The eagle an' the crowThey are waitin' ever so,An' you'll never see your soldiers any more! ['Ip! Urroar!)Yes, the Large Birds o' PreyThey will carry us away,An' you'll never see your soldiers any more!
As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the Crocodile,I seed a man on a man-o'-war got up in the Reg'lars' style.'E was scrapin' the paint from off of 'er plates,an' I sez to 'im, “'Oo are you?”Sez 'e, “I'm a Jolly--'Er Majesty's Jolly--soldier an' sailor too!”Now 'is work begins by Gawd knows when, and 'is work is never through;'E isn't one o' the reg'lar Line, nor 'e isn't one of the crew.'E's a kind of a giddy harumfrodite--soldier an' sailor too!
An' after I met 'im all over the world, a-doin' all kinds of things,Like landin' 'isself with a Gatlin' gun to talk to them 'eathen kings;'E sleeps in an 'ammick instead of a cot,an' 'e drills with the deck on a slew,An' 'e sweats like a Jolly--'Er Majesty's Jolly--soldier an' sailor too!For there isn't a job on the top o' the earth the beggar don't know, nor do--You can leave 'im at night on a bald man's 'ead, to paddle 'is own canoe--'E's a sort of a bloomin' cosmopolouse--soldier an' sailor too.
We've fought 'em in trooper, we've fought 'em in dock,and drunk with 'em in betweens,When they called us the seasick scull'ry-maids,an' we called 'em the Ass Marines;But, when we was down for a double fatigue, from Woolwich to Bernardmyo,We sent for the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too!They think for 'emselves, an' they steal for 'emselves,and they never ask what's to do,But they're camped an' fed an' they're up an' fed before our bugle's blew.Ho! they ain't no limpin' procrastitutes--soldier an' sailor too.
You may say we are fond of an 'arness-cut, or 'ootin' in barrick-yards,Or startin' a Board School mutiny along o' the Onion Guards;But once in a while we can finish in style for the ends of the earth to view,The same as the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too!They come of our lot, they was brothers to us;they was beggars we'd met an' knew;Yes, barrin' an inch in the chest an' the arm, they was doubles o' me an' you;For they weren't no special chrysanthemums--soldier an' sailor too!
To take your chance in the thick of a rush, with firing all about,Is nothing so bad when you've cover to 'and, an' leave an' likin' to shout;But to stand an' be still to the Birken'ead drillis a damn tough bullet to chew,An' they done it, the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too!Their work was done when it 'adn't begun; they was younger nor me an' you;Their choice it was plain between drownin' in 'eapsan' bein' mopped by the screw,So they stood an' was still to the Birken'ead drill, soldier an' sailor too!
We're most of us liars, we're 'arf of us thieves,an' the rest are as rank as can be,But once in a while we can finish in style(which I 'ope it won't 'appen to me).But it makes you think better o' you an' your friends,an' the work you may 'ave to do,When you think o' the sinkin' Victorier's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too!Now there isn't no room for to say ye don't know--they 'ave proved it plain and true--That whether it's Widow, or whether it's ship, Victorier's work is to do,An' they done it, the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too!
Words in this poem 20
- birr v. i.
- To make, or move with, a whirring noise, as of wheels in motion. [Cf. OE. bur, bir, wind, storm wind, fr. Icel. byrr wind. Perh. imitative.]
- quickness n.
- The condition or quality of being quick or living; life.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- ghazi n.
- Among Mohammedans, a warrior champion or veteran, esp. in the destruction of infidels.
- rode n.
- Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
- bahadur n.
- A title of respect or honor given to European officers in East Indian state papers, and colloquially, and among the natives, to distinguished officials and other important personages.
- chaplain n.
- An ecclesiastic who has a chapel, or who performs religious service in a chapel. [F. chapelain, fr. LL. capellanus, fr. capella. See Chapel.]
- clink v. t.
- To cause to give out a slight, sharp, tinkling, sound, as by striking metallic or other sonorous bodies together. [OE. clinken; akin to G. klingen, D. klinken, SW. klinga, Dan. klinge; prob. of imitative origin. Cf. Clank, Clench, Click, v. i.]
- spill n.
- A bit of wood split off; a splinter. [sq. root170. Cf. Spell a splinter.]
- ulster n.
- A long, loose overcoat, worn by men and women, originally made of frieze from Ulster, Ireland.
- billycock n.
- A round, low-crowned felt hat; a wideawake.
- damned a.
- Sentenced to punishment in a future state; condemned; consigned to perdition.
- rung n.
- A floor timber in a ship. [OE. ronge, AS. hrung, a staff, rod, pole; akin to G. runge a short, thick piece of iron or wood, OD. ronghe a prop, support, Icel. röng a rib in a ship, Goth. H]
- fourpence n.
- A British silver coin, worth four pence; a groat.
- drip v. i.
- To fall in drops; as, water drips from the eaves. [Akin to LG. drippen, Dan. dryppe, from a noun. See Drop.]
- aboard adv.
- On board; into or within a ship or boat; hence, into or within a railway car. [Pref. a- on, in + board.]
- gangway n.
- A passage or way into or out of any inclosed place; esp., a temporary way of access formed of planks. [See Gang, v. i.]
- trooper n.
- A soldier in a body of cavalry; a cavalryman; also, the horse of a cavalryman.
- seasick a.
- Affected with seasickness.
- damn v. t.
- To condemn; to declare guilty; to doom; to adjudge to punishment; to sentence; to censhure. [OE. damnen dap), OF. damner, dampner, F. damner, fr. L. damnare, damnatum, to condemn, fr. damnum damage, a fine, penalty. Cf. Condemn, Damage.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Shillin' a Day is in the public domain. This text is taken from Barrack-room ballads, Project Gutenberg ebook #2819; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Rudyard Kipling, Shillin' a Day, in Barrack-Room Ballads (1892), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #2819, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kipling-barrack-room/shillin-a-day.html, id L04502.
Form and metre
Shillin' a Day is 253 lines in 39 stanzas. 90% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 28 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 10% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A--A-BCCBBBB revelly · lahoreA · peshawur · etawah · poreA · thickness · wayB · nervisC · serviceC · dayB · dayB · payB · dayB
- 2 -ABBA-CDDCCCCE-E i · sideA · leatherB · togetherB · diedA · charin · betterC · be'oldD · coldD · letterC · letterC · betterC · letterC · beenE · seen · anE
- 3 ABABCCCB manA · bobsB · canA · bobsB · rearsC · yearsC · earsC · bobsB
- 4 -A-A-BBA bahadur · bobsA · kandahader · bobsA · chel · wellB · ellB · bobsA
- 5 ABABCCCB traceA · bobsB · placeA · bobsB · coatC · throatC · goatC · bobsB
- 6 ABABCCCB drinkA · bobsB · clinkA · bobsB · complainC · brainC · againC · bobsB
- 7 ABABCCCB headA · bobsB · leadA · bobsB · yearsC · souveneersC · spearsC · bobsB
- 8 ABABCCCB warA · bobsB · doorA · bobsB · wiseC · sizeC · advertiseC · bobsB
- 9 ABABCCCB lordA · bobsB · rewardA · bobsB · coronetC · setC · forgetC · bobsB
- 10 -A-ABBBA bahadur · bobsA · arder · bobsA · odeB · loadB · bestowedB · bobsA
- 11 AABB atA · batA · bootsB · recruitsB
- 12 -A-A sergeant · againA · card · againA
- 13 AABB dayA · payA · tooB · doB
- 14 -A-A sergeant · againA · turn · againA
- 15 AABB tradeA · madeA · meB · seeB
- 16 -A-A sergeant · againA · alt · againA
- 17 AABB eyeA · byA · straightB · gateB
- 18 -A-A sergeant · againA · port · againA
- 19 AABB soA · goA · drillB · stillB
- 20 -A-A sergeant · againA · due · againA
- 21 AABB lipA · ipA · deadB · saidB
- 22 -A-A sergeant · againA · me · againA
- 23 AABB caneA · againA · clayB · dayB
- 24 ABAB sergeantA · againB · sergeantA · rainB
- 25 -ABAB-C-C there · youA · madeB · youA · paradeB · army · remainC · street · againC
- 26 -A-A trousies · dripA · ouses · shipA
- 27 -ABBA victory · roarA · preyB · awayB · moreA
- 28 -A-A corner · closeA · er · knowsA
- 29 ABAB paintedA · awayB · faintedA · dayB
- 30 AA- sorrowA · morrowA · sick
- 31 ABAB usA · againB · usA · rainB
- 32 ABAB wringinA · fallB · singinA · allB
- 33 -ABBACCADDA victory · moreA · kiteB · appetiteB · urroarA · crowC · soC · urroarA · preyD · awayD · moreA
- 34 AA-BBBBB crocodileA · styleA · plates · youB · tooB · throughB · crewB · tooB
- 35 AA-BBBBB thingsA · kingsA · cot · slewB · tooB · doB · canoeB · tooB
- 36 -A-A-B-BBB dock · betweensA · maids · marinesA · bernardmyo · tooB · emselves · doB · blewB · tooB
- 37 AABB-BBB yardsA · guardsA · viewB · tooB · us · knewB · youB · tooB
- 38 AA-B-BB-BB aboutA · shoutA · drill · chewB · jollies · tooB · youB · eaps · screwB · tooB
- 39 -A-A-BB-BB-B thieves · beA · style · meA · friends · doB · tooB · know · trueB · doB · jollies · tooB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| My name is O'Kelly, I've heard the Revelly | 12 | ···˘/˘······ |
| From Birr to Bareilly, from Leeds to Lahore, | 11 | ·········˘/ |
| Hong-Kong and Peshawur, | 6 | ······ |
| Lucknow and Etawah, | 6 | ······ |
| And fifty-five more all endin' in “pore”. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Black Death and his quickness, the depth and the thickness, | 12 | ····/˘····/˘ |
| Of sorrow and sickness I've known on my way, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| But I'm old and I'm nervis, | 7 | ······· |
| I'm cast from the Service, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| And all I deserve is a shillin' a day. | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| (Chorus) Shillin' a day, | 6 | /˘···· |
| Bloomin' good pay-- | 4 | ···· |
| Lucky to touch it, a shillin' a day! | 10 | /˘········ |
| Oh, it drives me half crazy to think of the days I | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| Went slap for the Ghazi, my sword at my side, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| When we rode Hell-for-leather | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Both squadrons together, | 6 | ·/˘˘/˘ |
| That didn't care whether we lived or we died. | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| But it's no use despairin', my wife must go charin' | 13 | ············· |
| An' me commissairin' the pay-bills to better, | 12 | ··········/˘ |
| So if me you be'old | 5 | ····· |
| In the wet and the cold, | 6 | ······ |
| By the Grand Metropold, won't you give me a letter? | 13 | ···········/˘ |
| (Full chorus) Give 'im a letter-- | 8 | ·/˘···/˘ |
| 'Can't do no better, | 5 | ···/˘ |
| Late Troop-Sergeant-Major an'--runs with a letter! | 12 | ··/˘/˘····/˘ |
| Think what 'e's been, | 4 | ···· |
| Think what 'e's seen, | 4 | ···· |
| Think of his pension an'---- | 6 | ···/˘· |
| There's a little red-faced man, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Which is Bobs, | 3 | ··· |
| Rides the tallest 'orse 'e can- | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Our Bobs, | 3 | /˘· |
| If it bucks or kicks or rears, | 7 | ······· |
| 'E can sit for twenty years | 7 | ····/˘· |
| With a smile round both 'is ears- | 7 | ······· |
| Can't yer, Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur- | 7 | ······· |
| Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! | 5 | /˘··· |
| 'E's our pukka Kandahader- | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! | 5 | /˘··· |
| 'E's the Dook of Aggy Chel; | 7 | ····/˘· |
| 'E's the man that done us well, | 7 | ······· |
| An' we'll follow 'im to 'ell- | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Won't we Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| If a limber's slipped a trace, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| 'Ook on Bobs. | 3 | ··· |
| If a marker's lost 'is place, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Dress by Bobs. | 3 | ··· |
| For 'e's eyes all up 'is coat, | 7 | ······· |
| An' a bugle in 'is throat, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| An' you will not play the goat | 7 | ······· |
| Under Bobs. | 3 | ··· |
| 'E's a little down on drink, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Chaplain Bobs; | 3 | /˘· |
| But it keeps us outer Clink- | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Don't it Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| So we will not complain | 6 | ····˘/ |
| Tho' 'e's water on the brain, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| If 'e leads us straight again- | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Blue-light Bobs. | 3 | ··· |
| If you stood 'im on 'is head | 7 | ······· |
| Father Bobs, | 3 | /˘· |
| You could spill a quart o' lead | 7 | ······· |
| Outer Bobs. | 3 | /˘· |
| 'E's been at it thirty years, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| An' amassin' souveneers | 7 | ······· |
| In the way o' slugs an' spears- | 7 | ······· |
| Ain't yer, Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| What 'e does not Know o' war, | 7 | ······· |
| Gen'ral Bobs, | 3 | ··· |
| You can arst the shop next door- | 7 | ······· |
| Can't they, Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| Oh, 'e's little, but he's wise; | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| 'E's a terror for 'is size, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| An'-'e-does-not-advertise- | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Do yer, Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| Now they've made a bloomin' Lord | 7 | ······· |
| Outer Bobs, | 3 | /˘· |
| Which was but 'is fair reward- | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Weren't it Bobs? | 4 | /˘·· |
| So 'e'll wear a coronet | 7 | ····/˘/ |
| Where 'is 'elmet used to set; | 7 | ······· |
| But we know you won't forget- | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Will yer, Bobs? | 3 | ··· |
| Then 'ere's to Bobs Bahadur-- | 7 | ······· |
| Little Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! | 5 | /˘··· |
| Pocket-Wellin'ton an' arder-- | 8 | /˘······ |
| Fightin' Bobs, Bobs, Bobs! | 5 | /˘··· |
| This ain't no bloomin' ode, | 6 | ······ |
| But you've 'elped the soldier's load, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| An' for benefits bestowed, | 7 | ··/˘˘˘/ |
| Bless yer, Bobs! | 3 | ··· |
| I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at, | 16 | ······/˘··/˘···· |
| A-layin' on to the sergeant I don't know a gun from a bat; | 15 | ·····/˘········ |
| My shirt's doin' duty for jacket, my sock's stickin' out o' my boots, | 17 | ··/˘/˘·/˘········ |
| An' I'm learnin' the damned old goose-step along o' the new recruits! | 16 | ·········˘/···˘/ |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again. | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| Don't look so 'ard, for I 'aven't no card, | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| I'm back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| I done my six years' service. 'Er Majesty sez: “Good-day-- | 14 | ·····/˘·/˘˘··· |
| You'll please to come when you're rung for, an' 'ere's your 'ole back-pay; | 14 | ·············· |
| An' fourpence a day for baccy--an' bloomin' gen'rous, too; | 14 | ·/˘··········· |
| An' now you can make your fortune--the same as your orf'cers do.” | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again; | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| 'Ow did I learn to do right-about turn? | 10 | ·········· |
| I'm back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| A man o' four-an'-twenty that 'asn't learned of a trade-- | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| Beside “Reserve” agin' him--'e'd better be never made. | 14 | ˘/˘/˘/··/˘·/˘· |
| I tried my luck for a quarter, an' that was enough for me, | 15 | ······/˘···˘/·· |
| An' I thought of 'Er Majesty's barricks, an' I thought I'd go an' see. | 17 | ·····/˘˘/˘······· |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again; | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| 'Tisn't my fault if I dress when I 'alt-- | 9 | ········· |
| I'm back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| The sergeant arst no questions, but 'e winked the other eye, | 14 | ·/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| 'E sez to me, “'Shun!” an' I shunted, the same as in days gone by; | 16 | ·······/˘······· |
| For 'e saw the set o' my shoulders, an' I couldn't 'elp 'oldin' straight | 17 | ·······/˘··/˘···· |
| When me an' the other rookies come under the barrick-gate. | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again; | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| 'Oo would ha' thought I could carry an' port? | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| I'm back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| I took my bath, an' I wallered--for, Gawd, I needed it so! | 15 | ······/˘···/˘·· |
| I smelt the smell o' the barricks, I 'eard the bugles go. | 14 | ······/˘···/˘· |
| I 'eard the feet on the gravel--the feet o' the men what drill-- | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| An' I sez to my flutterin' 'eart-strings, I sez to 'em, “Peace, be still!” | 17 | ················· |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again; | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| 'Oo said I knew when the Jumner was due? | 10 | ·········· |
| I'm back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| I carried my slops to the tailor; I sez to 'im, “None o' your lip! | 17 | ·/˘····/˘········ |
| You tight 'em over the shoulders, an' loose 'em over the 'ip, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| For the set o' the tunic's 'orrid.” An' 'e sez to me, “Strike me dead, | 17 | ·····/˘·········· |
| But I thought you was used to the business!” an' so 'e done what I said. | 17 | ········/˘······· |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again. | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| Rather too free with my fancies? Wot--me? | 10 | /˘····/˘·· |
| I'm back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| Next week I'll 'ave 'em fitted; I'll buy me a swagger-cane; | 16 | ···/˘˘·/˘····/˘· |
| They'll let me free o' the barricks to walk on the Hoe again | 15 | ······/˘·····˘/ |
| In the name o' William Parsons, that used to be Edward Clay, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| An'--any pore beggar that wants it can draw my fourpence a day! | 16 | ·/˘·/˘······/˘·· |
| Back to the Army again, sergeant, | 9 | ···/˘˘//˘ |
| Back to the Army again: | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Out o' the cold an' the rain. | 7 | ······· |
| 'Oo's there? | 2 | ·· |
| A man that's too good to be lost you, | 9 | ········· |
| A man that is 'andled an' made-- | 7 | ······· |
| A man that will pay what 'e cost you | 9 | ········· |
| In learnin' the others their trade--parade! | 10 | ····/˘··˘/ |
| You're droppin' the pick o' the Army | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Because you don't 'elp 'em remain, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| But drives 'em to cheat to get out o' the street | 11 | ··········· |
| An' back to the Army again! | 8 | ····/˘˘/ |
| March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies. | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| Front!--eyes front, an' watch the Colour-casin's drip. | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| Front! The faces of the women in the 'ouses | 12 | ··/˘··/˘···· |
| Ain't the kind o' things to take aboard the ship. | 11 | ·······˘/·· |
| Cheer! An' we'll never march to victory. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| Cheer! An' we'll never live to 'ear the cannon roar! | 12 | ···/˘····/˘· |
| The Large Birds o' Prey | 5 | ····· |
| They will carry us away, | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| An' you'll never see your soldiers any more! | 11 | ··/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Wheel! Oh, keep your touch; we're goin' round a corner. | 12 | ······/˘··/˘ |
| Time!--mark time, an' let the men be'ind us close. | 10 | ·········· |
| Lord! the transport's full, an' 'alf our lot not on 'er-- | 13 | ··˘/···/˘···· |
| Cheer, O cheer! We're going off where no one knows. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| March! The Devil's none so black as 'e is painted! | 12 | ··/˘······/˘ |
| Cheer! We'll 'ave some fun before we're put away. | 13 | ··/˘˘······˘/ |
| 'Alt, an' 'and 'er out--a woman's gone and fainted! | 12 | ······/˘··/˘ |
| Cheer! Get on--Gawd 'elp the married men to-day! | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| Hoi! Come up, you 'ungry beggars, to yer sorrow. | 12 | ······/˘··/˘ |
| You won't have no mind for slingers, not to-morrow-- | 12 | ······/˘··/˘ |
| No; you'll put the 'tween-decks stove out, bein' sick! | 11 | ········/˘· |
| 'Alt! The married kit 'as all to go before us! | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| 'Course it's blocked the bloomin' gangway up again! | 11 | ······/˘·˘/ |
| Cheer, O cheer the 'Orse Guards watchin' tender o'er us, | 12 | ······/˘/˘·· |
| Keepin' us since eight this mornin' in the rain! | 11 | ··········· |
| Stuck in 'eavy marchin'-order, sopped and wringin'-- | 12 | ······/˘···· |
| Sick, before our time to watch 'er 'eave an' fall, | 12 | ···/˘······· |
| 'Ere's your 'appy 'ome at last, an' stop your singin'. | 12 | ··········/˘ |
| 'Alt! Fall in along the troop-deck! Silence all! | 11 | ···˘/···/˘· |
| Cheer! For we'll never live to see no bloomin' victory! | 14 | ···/˘······/˘˘ |
| Cheer! An' we'll never live to 'ear the cannon roar! (One cheer more!) | 15 | ···/˘····/˘···· |
| The jackal an' the kite | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| 'Ave an 'ealthy appetite, | 9 | /˘˘···/˘· |
| An' you'll never see your soldiers any more! ['Ip! Urroar!) | 14 | ··/˘··/˘/˘···· |
| The eagle an' the crow | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| They are waitin' ever so, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| An' you'll never see your soldiers any more! ['Ip! Urroar!) | 14 | ··/˘··/˘/˘···· |
| Yes, the Large Birds o' Prey | 6 | ······ |
| They will carry us away, | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| An' you'll never see your soldiers any more! | 11 | ··/˘··/˘/˘· |
| As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the Crocodile, | 16 | ·········˘/··/˘· |
| I seed a man on a man-o'-war got up in the Reg'lars' style. | 16 | ················ |
| 'E was scrapin' the paint from off of 'er plates, | 11 | ··········· |
| an' I sez to 'im, “'Oo are you?” | 8 | ········ |
| Sez 'e, “I'm a Jolly--'Er Majesty's Jolly--soldier an' sailor too!” | 18 | ····/˘·/˘˘/˘/˘·/˘· |
| Now 'is work begins by Gawd knows when, and 'is work is never through; | 16 | ···˘/········/˘· |
| 'E isn't one o' the reg'lar Line, nor 'e isn't one of the crew. | 17 | ·/˘········/˘···· |
| 'E's a kind of a giddy harumfrodite--soldier an' sailor too! | 17 | ·····/˘····/˘·/˘· |
| An' after I met 'im all over the world, a-doin' all kinds of things, | 18 | ············/˘···· |
| Like landin' 'isself with a Gatlin' gun to talk to them 'eathen kings; | 17 | ·/˘····/˘········ |
| 'E sleeps in an 'ammick instead of a cot, | 11 | ······˘/··· |
| an' 'e drills with the deck on a slew, | 9 | ········· |
| An' 'e sweats like a Jolly--'Er Majesty's Jolly--soldier an' sailor too! | 19 | ·····/˘·/˘˘/˘/˘·/˘· |
| For there isn't a job on the top o' the earth the beggar don't know, nor do-- | 19 | ··/˘·········/˘···· |
| You can leave 'im at night on a bald man's 'ead, to paddle 'is own canoe-- | 18 | ············/˘··˘/ |
| 'E's a sort of a bloomin' cosmopolouse--soldier an' sailor too. | 17 | ···········/˘·/˘· |
| We've fought 'em in trooper, we've fought 'em in dock, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| and drunk with 'em in betweens, | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| When they called us the seasick scull'ry-maids, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| an' we called 'em the Ass Marines; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| But, when we was down for a double fatigue, from Woolwich to Bernardmyo, | 18 | ·······/˘˘/······· |
| We sent for the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too! | 18 | ····/˘·/˘˘/˘/˘·/˘· |
| They think for 'emselves, an' they steal for 'emselves, | 11 | ··········· |
| and they never ask what's to do, | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| But they're camped an' fed an' they're up an' fed before our bugle's blew. | 17 | ············/˘/˘· |
| Ho! they ain't no limpin' procrastitutes--soldier an' sailor too. | 16 | ····/˘····/˘·/˘· |
| You may say we are fond of an 'arness-cut, or 'ootin' in barrick-yards, | 18 | ···············/˘· |
| Or startin' a Board School mutiny along o' the Onion Guards; | 16 | ······/˘˘˘/··/˘· |
| But once in a while we can finish in style for the ends of the earth to view, | 19 | ·······/˘·········· |
| The same as the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too! | 18 | ····/˘·/˘˘/˘/˘·/˘· |
| They come of our lot, they was brothers to us; | 12 | ···/˘···/˘·· |
| they was beggars we'd met an' knew; | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Yes, barrin' an inch in the chest an' the arm, they was doubles o' me an' you; | 19 | ·············/˘···· |
| For they weren't no special chrysanthemums--soldier an' sailor too! | 17 | ··/˘·/˘˘/˘˘/˘·/˘· |
| To take your chance in the thick of a rush, with firing all about, | 16 | ···········/˘··· |
| Is nothing so bad when you've cover to 'and, an' leave an' likin' to shout; | 18 | ·/˘····/˘·····/˘·· |
| But to stand an' be still to the Birken'ead drill | 12 | ············ |
| is a damn tough bullet to chew, | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| An' they done it, the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies-- | 13 | ·····/˘·/˘˘/˘ |
| soldier an' sailor too! | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| Their work was done when it 'adn't begun; they was younger nor me an' you; | 17 | ·······˘/··/˘···· |
| Their choice it was plain between drownin' in 'eaps | 11 | ··········· |
| an' bein' mopped by the screw, | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| So they stood an' was still to the Birken'ead drill, soldier an' sailor too! | 18 | ············/˘·/˘· |
| We're most of us liars, we're 'arf of us thieves, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| an' the rest are as rank as can be, | 9 | ········· |
| But once in a while we can finish in style | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| (which I 'ope it won't 'appen to me). | 9 | ········· |
| But it makes you think better o' you an' your friends, | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| an' the work you may 'ave to do, | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| When you think o' the sinkin' Victorier's Jollies--soldier an' sailor too! | 18 | ··········/˘/˘·/˘· |
| Now there isn't no room for to say ye don't know-- | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| they 'ave proved it plain and true-- | 9 | ·/˘˘····· |
| That whether it's Widow, or whether it's ship, Victorier's work is to do, | 18 | ····/˘············ |
| An' they done it, the Jollies--'Er Majesty's Jollies-- | 13 | ·····/˘·/˘˘/˘ |
| soldier an' sailor too! | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.