Monday, 7 March 2011

A Ballade of Burial

A Ballade of Burial

("Saint Praxed's ever was the Church for peace")

If down here I chance to die,
  Solemnly I beg you take
All that is left of "I"
  To the Hills for old sake's sake,
Pack me very thoroughly
  In the ice that used to slake
Pegs I drank when I was dry --
  This observe for old sake's sake.

To the railway station hie,
  There a single ticket take
For Umballa -- goods-train -- I
  Shall not mind delay or shake.
I shall rest contentedly
  Spite of clamour coolies make;
Thus in state and dignity
  Send me up for old sake's sake.

Next the sleepy Babu wake,
  Book a Kalka van "for four."
Few, I think, will care to make
  Journeys with me any more
As they used to do of yore.
  I shall need a "special" brake --
'Thing I never took before --
  Get me one for old sake's sake.

After that -- arrangements make.
  No hotel will take me in,
And a bullock's back would break
  'Neath the teak and leaden skin
Tonga-ropes are frail and thin,
  Or, did I a back-seat take,
In a tonga I might spin, --
  Do your best for old sake's sake.

After that -- your work is done.
  Recollect a Padre must
Mourn the dear departed one --
  Throw the ashes and the dust.
Don't go down at once. I trust
  You will find excuse to "snake
Three days' casual on the bust."
  Get your fun for old sake's sake.

I could never stand the Plains.
  Think of blazing June and May
Think of those September rains
  Yearly till the Judgment Day!
I should never rest in peace,
  I should sweat and lie awake.
Rail me then, on my decease,
  To the Hills for old sake's sake.

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