I Have No Gift Of Words, But

Come You Back, You British Soldier; Come You Back To Mandalay!

Of Course The Man Was Wild Too. He Was Dreadfully Wild. He Didn't Even Begin To Be Tame Till He Met The Woman, And She Told Him That She Did Not Like Living In His Wild Ways. She Picked Out A Nice Dry Cave, Instead Of A Heap Of Wet Leaves, To Lie Down In; And She Strewed Clean Sand On The Floor; And She Lit A Nice Fire Of Wood At The Back Of The Cave; And She Hung A Dried Wild-horse Skin, Tail Down, Across The Opening Of The Cave; And She Said, 'wipe Your Feet, Dear, When You Come In, And Now We'll Keep House.

All Good People Agree, And All Good People Say, All Nice People, Like Us, Are We And Every One Else Is They: But If You Cross Over The Sea, Instead Of Over The Way, You May End By (think Of It!) Looking On We As Only A Sort Of They!

The World Is Very Lovely, And It's Very Horrible--and It Doesn't Care About Your Life Or Mine Or Anything Else.

A Brave Heart And A Courteous Tongue. They Shall Carry Thee Far Through The Jungle, Manling.