You may talk o’ gin and beer
When you’re quartered safe out ’ere
An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ’im that’s got it
Now in Injia’s sunny clime
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin’ of ’Er Majesty the Queen
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din
He was ‘Din! Din! Din!
‘You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din!
‘Hi! Slippy hitherao
‘Water, get it! Panee lao
‘You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.’

The uniform ’e wore
Was nothin’ much beforе
An’ rather less than ’arf o’ that be’ind
For a piеce o’ twisty rag
An’ a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment ’e could find
When the sweatin’ troop-train lay
In a sidin’ through the day
Where the ’eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl
We shouted ‘Harry By!’
Till our throats were bricky-dry
Then we wopped ’im ’cause ’e couldn’t serve us all
It was ‘Din! Din! Din!
‘You ’eathen, where the mischief ’ave you been?
‘You put some juldee in it
‘Or I’ll marrow you this minute
‘If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!’
’E would dot an’ carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An’ ’e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear
If we charged or broke or cut
You could bet your bloomin’ nut
’E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear
With ’is mussick on ’is back
’E would skip with our attack
An’ watch us till the bugles made 'Retire,’
An’ for all ’is dirty ’ide
’E was white, clear white, inside
When ’e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was ‘Din! Din! Din!’
With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green
When the cartridges ran out
You could hear the front-ranks shout
‘Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!’

I shan’t forgit the night
When I dropped be’ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ’a’ been
I was chokin’ mad with thirst
An’ the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din
’E lifted up my ’ead
An’ he plugged me where I bled
An’ ’e guv me ’arf-a-pint o’ water green
It was crawlin’ and it stunk
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk
I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din
It was 'Din! Din! Din!
‘’Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ’is spleen;
‘’E's chawin’ up the ground
‘An’ ’e’s kickin’ all around:
‘For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!’
’E carried me away
To where a dooli lay
An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean
’E put me safe inside
An’ just before ’e died
'I ’ope you liked your drink,’ sez Gunga Din
So I’ll meet ’im later on
At the place where ’e is gone—
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen
’E’ll be squattin’ on the coals
Givin’ drink to poor damned souls
An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I’ve belted you and flayed you
By the livin’ Gawd that made you
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!