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 '.