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'AVE you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead?
She 'as ships on the foam she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.
[Ow, poor beggars in red!]:
Theres 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses,
Theres 'er mark on the medical stores
An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind
That takes us to various wars.
[Poor beggars! barbarious wars!]:
Then 'eres to the Widow at Windsor,
An' 'eres to the stores an' the guns,
The men an' the 'orses what makes up the forces
O' Missis Victoriers sons.
[Poor beggars! Victoriers sons!]:
Walk wide o' the Widow at Windsor,
For 'alf o' Creation she owns:
We 'ave bought 'er the same with the sword an' the flame,
An' we've salted it down with our bones.
[Poor beggars! its blue with our bones!]:
Hands off o' the sons o' the Widow,
Hands off o' the goods in 'er shop,
For the Kings must come down an' the Emperors frown
When the Widow at Windsor says "Stop"!
[Poor beggars! we're sent to say "Stop"!]:
Then 'eres to the Lodge o' the Widow,
From the Pole to the Tropics it runs
To the Lodge that we tile with the rank an' the file,
An' open in form with the guns.
[Poor beggars! its always the guns!]:
We 'ave 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor,
Its safest to let 'er alone:
For 'er sentries we stand by the sea an' the land
Wherever the bugles are blown.
[Poor beggars! an' don't we get blown!]:
Take 'old o' the Wings o' the Mornin',
An' flop round the earth till you're dead;
But you won't get away from the tune that they play
To the bloomin' old rag over'ead.
[Poor beggars! its 'ot over'ead!]:
Then 'eres to the sons o' the Widow,
Wherever, 'owever they roam.
'Eres all they desire, an' if they require
A speedy return to their 'ome.
[Poor beggars! they'll never see 'ome!]:
Reprinted from Ballads and barrack-room ballads by Rudyard Kipling. New York ; London : Macmillan and Co., 1892. xvi, 207 p ; 19 cm.
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