All de hot blood t’rough us flowin’,
As we hungered for tattoo.
While some o’ de men were strong in
Rum o’ Wray an’ Nephew fame,
We sat do’n wid ceaseless longin’
Till at last de tattoo came:
Jes’ then we were no more snappy,
But be’n even in fe fun
Once again we felt quite happy
After de roll-call was done.
Claspin’ of our hands togeder,
Each to each we told good-night,
Dreamed soon o’ life’s broken ledder
An’ de wul’s perplexin’ fight,
Of de many souls a-weepin’
Burdened do’n wid care an’ strife,
While we sweetly lay a-sleepin’,
Yet would grumble ’bout our life.
Once his cot was next beside me,
But dere came misfortune’s day
When de pleasure was denied me,
For de sergeant moved him ’way:
I played not fe mind de movin’
Though me heart wid grief be’n full;
’Twas but one kin’ o’ de provin’
O’ de ways o’ dis ya wul’.[1]
- ↑ The reference is to “Whe’ fe do?” one of the author’s poems in Songs of Jamaica.
