534 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
The same old chance that laid us out, or winked an' let us
through; The same old Life, the same old Death. Good-bye good
luck to you!
Our blood 'as truly mixed with yours all down the Red
Cross train.
We've bit the same thermometer in Bloeming-typhoidtein. We've 'ad the same old temp'rature the same relapses too, The same old saw-backed fever-chart. Good-bye good
luck to you!
But 't was n't merely this an' that (which all the world may
know), 'Twas how you talked an' looked at things which made us
like you so.
All independent, queer an' odd, but most amazin' new, My word! you shook us up to rights. Good-bye good
luck to you!
Think o' the stories round the fire, the tales along the trek O' Calgary an' Wellin'ton, an' Sydney and Quebec; Of mine an' farm, an' ranch an' run, an' moose an' cariboo, An' parrots peckin' lambs to death! Good-bye good luck to you!
We've seen your 'ome by word o' mouth, we've watched your
rivers shine,
We've 'card your bloomin' forests blow of eucalip' and pine; Your young, gay countries north an' south, we feel we own
'em too, For they was made by rank an' file. Good-bye good luck
to you!
We'll never read the papers now without inquirin 3 first For word from all those friendly dorps where you was born an' nursed.
