Smokin’ my pipe on the mountings, sniffin’ the mornin’ cool, I walks in my old brown gaiters along o’ my old brown mule, With seventy gunners be’ind me, an’ never a beggar forgets It’s only the pick of the Army that handles the dear little pets—‘Tss! ‘Tss!
This week’s poem is Rudyard Kipling’s The Four Angels. I hope you enjoy it.
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