That's where he fell;
Mark the spot well.
See the smashed saddle and lower his blood.
Count then, my friends,
On your ten finger ends,
People you know who've gone 'over the Khud.
Pretty Blue Eyes
Ask with surprise—
'How could he fall from a path broad as this?
What would she do
If we said—'You
Dance all too near to the Khud as it is'?
Given a hack
Ready to back,
Crash through the railings and down with a thud;
You'll find it so easy
When roadways are greasy,
To slip from the level and 'over the Khud '.
Far, far below
Men we 'don't know',
Stare at us hopelessly out of the mud.
We're on the Mall,
Safe side the Wall;
They were the fools to go 'over the Khud '.
People look down,
'Cut' them or frown,
Lighthearted picnickers merrily stone 'em;
And strong in the sense,
Of propriety's fence,
Mount on the very same hack that has thrown 'em.
Horses are strong,
Apt to go wrong,
We are reluctant the curb to apply.
Only a stumble
And we too may tumble
Down, down the cliffs where those poor devils lie.
Look at the stones
White with their bones,
Look at the rocks that are dark with their blood.
Thank the Lord all
You're safe on the Mall
So far, and pity poor souls 'down the Khud '.
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