FORD O' KABUL RIVER Kabul town's by Kabul river Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! There's the river up and brimmin', and there's 'arf a squadron swimmin' 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. Kabul town's a blasted place Blow the bugle, draw the sword 'Strewth I shan't forget 'is face Wet an' drippin' by the ford! Ford, ford, ford 'o Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they will surely guide you 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! You can 'ear the 'orses threshin', you can 'ear the men a-splashin', 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. Ford o Kabul River Kabul town was ours to take Blow the bugle, draw the sword I'd ha' left it for 'is sake 'Im that left me by the ford. Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford 'o Kabul river in the dark! It's none so bloomin' dry there; ain't you never comin' nigh there, 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark? Blow the bugle, draw the sword · 'Fore I see him 'live an' well 'Im the best beside the ford. Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! Gawd 'elp 'em if they blunder, for their boots 'll pull 'em under, By the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. Turn your 'orse from Kabul town Blow the bugle, draw the sword 'Im an' 'arf my troop is down, Down an' drownded by the ford. Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river, Ford o' Kabul river in the dark! There's the river low an' fallin', but it ain't no use o' callin' 'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark. 241 RECESSIONAL A Victorian Ode God of our fathers, known of old — Dominion over palm and pine Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget - Lest we forget! The tumult and the shouting dies The Captains and the Kings depart Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget - lest we forget! Far-called, our navies melt away On dune and headland sinks the fire. Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Ninevah and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe — Such boasting as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the law Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget - lest we forget! Recessional For heathen heart that puts her trust All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding, calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen. |