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II

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A skirling squeaky piping—

Tweedledee, tweedledee,

And the drubbing of a drum,

Tum ... tum ...

And the niggers on the quay

Stole my young heart from the sea;

And I leapt ashore and shuffled with them,

Ruffled with them, scuffled with them,

Prancing to that piping—

Tweedledee, tweedledee,

To the piping sharp and thin

That gets underneath the skin,

And the drubbing of the drum,

Tum ... tum ...

That rumbles through the midriff like the roll of kingdom-come—

Tum ... tum ... tum ...

And I couldn’t face my messmates

When they’d seen me foot it there

To the drubbing of the drum—

Tum ... tum ...

Galumphing like a bear

Mother-naked to the air

With a lot of fantee stumping niggers,

Clumping belly-thumping niggers—

Lost to England, Home, and Beauty

By the piping sharp and thin

That gets underneath the skin,

And the drubbing of the drum—

Tum ... tum ...

That rumbles through the midriff like the roll of kingdom-come—

Tum ... tum ... tum ...