The Works of Rudyard Kipling: One Volume Edition

A BALLAD OF BURIAL

   (“Saint @Proxed'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 clamor 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” break—
   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.