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Darzee's Chaunt (sung in honour of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi) Doubled the joys that I know Proud of my lilt through the sky, Proud of the house that I sew Over and under, so weave I my music-so weave I the house that I sew. Mother, oh, lift up your head! Evil that plagues us is slain, Death in the garden lies dead. Terror that hid in the roses is impotent-flung on the dung-hill and dead! Tell me his nest and his name. Rikki, the valiant, the true, Tikki, with eyeballs of flame, Rik-tikki-tikki, the ivory-fanged, the hunter with eyeballs of flame. Blowing with tail-feathers spread! Praise him with nightingale-words Nay, I will praise him instead. Hear! I will sing you the praise of the bottle-tailed Rikki, with eye-balls of red! (Here Rikki-tikki interrupted, and the rest of the song is lost.) |
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