THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 & 2.1 
 
 KG>2.roaL 
 
KIPLING’S VERSES 
 
 MINIATURE SERIES 
 

MANDALAY 
 

KIPLING’S VERSES 
 
 MINIATURE SERIES 
 
 MANDALAY 
 
 GARDEN CITY, N. Y., AND TORONTO 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 1921 
 

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COPYRIGHT, 1892, BY 
 
 RUDYARD KIPLING 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF 
 TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, 
 INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN 
 
MANDALAY 
 

 
 
MANDALAY 
 
 B Y 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!" 
 
 [ 3 ] 
 
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! 
 
 [4] 
 
'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. . . 
 
 [5] 
 
When the mist was on the rice- 
 fields an' the sun was drop- 
 pin' slow, 
 
 She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd 
 sing “ Kulla-lo-lo /*' 
 
 With 'er arm upon my shoulder 
 an' 'er cheek agin my cheek 
 We useter watch the steamers an' 
 the hathis pilin' teak. 
 Elephints a-pilin' teak 
 In the sludgy, squdgy creek, 
 Where the silence 'ung that 
 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to 
 speak! 
 
 On the road to Mandalay. . . 
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
But that’s all shove be’ind me — 
 long ago an’ fur away, 
 
 An’ there ain’t no ’busses runnin’ 
 from the Bank to Mandalay; 
 
 An’ I’m learnin’ ’ere in London 
 what the ten-year soldier 
 tells: 
 
 “If you’ Ve ’eard the East 
 a-callin’, you won’t never 
 ’eed naught else.” 
 
 No! you won’t ’eed nothin’ else 
 But them spicy garlic smells, 
 An’ the sunshine an’ the palm- 
 trees an’ the tinkly temple- 
 bells; 
 
 On the road to Mandalay . . . 
 
 [ 7 ] 
 
ifHMMmrim 
 
 
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 ’ouse- 
 maids outer Chelsea to the 
 Strand, 
 
 An’ they talks a lot o’ lovin’, 
 but wot do they under- 
 stand? 
 
 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 . . . 
 
 [ 8 ] 
 
Ship me somewheres east of Suez, 
 where the best is like the 
 worst, 
 
 Where there are n’t no Ten Com- 
 mandments 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; 
 
 [9] 
 
l\ \> \\ AM » 
 
 / 
 
On the road to Mandalay, 
 Where the old Flotilla lay, 
 With our sick beneath the awn- 
 ings when we went to Man- 
 dalay! 
 
 O the road to Mandalay, 
 
 Where the flyin'-fishes play, 
 An’ the dawn comes up like 
 thunder outer China ’crost 
 the Bay! 
 
 THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.