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Rudyard Kipling - Oonts
Work rating: Medium

Wot makes the soldier`s `eart to penk, wot makes `im to perspire?
It isn`t standin` up to charge nor lyin` down to fire;
But it`s everlastin` waitin` on a everlastin` road
For the commissariat camel an` `is commissariat load.
    O the oont, O the oont, O the commissariat oont!
     With `is silly neck a-bobbin` like a basket full o` snakes;
    We packs `im like an idol, an` you ought to `ear `im grunt,
     An` when we gets `im loaded up `is blessed girth-rope breaks.
 
 Camel: — ~oo~ is pronounced like ~u~ in "bull", but by Mr. Atkins
to rhyme with "front".
 
Wot makes the rear-guard swear so `ard when night is drorin` in,
An` every native follower is shiverin` for `is skin?
It ain`t the chanst o` being rushed by Paythans from the `ills,
It`s the commissariat camel puttin` on `is bloomin` frills!
    O the oont, O the oont, O the hairy scary oont!
     A-trippin` over tent-ropes when we`ve got the night alarm!
    We socks `im with a stretcher-pole an` `eads `im off in front,
     An` when we`ve saved `is bloomin` life `e chaws our bloomin` arm.
 
The `orse `e knows above a bit, the bullock`s but a fool,
The elephant`s a gentleman, the battery-mule`s a mule;
But the commissariat cam-u-el, when all is said an` done,
`E`s a devil an` a ostrich an` a orphan-child in one.
    O the oont, O the oont, O the Gawd-forsaken oont!
     The lumpy-`umpy `ummin`-bird a-singin` where `e lies,
    `E`s blocked the whole division from the rear-guard to the front,
     An` when we get him up again — the beggar goes an` dies!
 
`E`ll gall an` chafe an` lame an` fight — `e smells most awful vile;
`E`ll lose `isself for ever if you let `im stray a mile;
`E`s game to graze the `ole day long an` `owl the `ole night through,
An` when `e comes to greasy ground `e splits `isself in two.
    O the oont, O the oont, O the floppin`, droppin` oont!
     When `is long legs give from under an` `is meltin` eye is dim,
    The tribes is up be`ind us, and the tribes is out in front —
     It ain`t no jam for Tommy, but it`s kites an` crows for `im.
 
So when the cruel march is done, an` when the roads is blind,
An` when we sees the camp in front an` `ears the shots be`ind,
Ho! then we strips `is saddle off, and all `is woes is past:
`E thinks on us that used `im so, and gets revenge at last.
    O the oont, O the oont, O the floatin`, bloatin` oont!
     The late lamented camel in the water-cut `e lies;
    We keeps a mile be`ind `im an` we keeps a mile in front,
     But `e gets into the drinkin`-casks, and then o` course we dies.
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