The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God
Melody - Milton Hayes & Cuthbert Clarke, 1911
Melody - Milton Hayes & Cuthbert Clarke, 1911
There's a one-eyed yellow idol
To the north of Kathmandu; There's a little marble cross below the town; And a brokenhearted woman Tends the grave of 'Mad' Carew, While the yellow god for ever gazes down. He was known as 'Mad Carew By the subs at Kathmandu, He was hotter than they felt inclined to tell, But, for all his foolish pranks, He was worshipped in the ranks, And the Colonel's daughter smiled on him as well. He had loved her all along With the passion of the strong, And that she returned his love was plain to all. She was nearly twenty-one, And arrangements were begun To celebrate her birthday with a ball. He wrote to ask what present She would like from 'Mad' Carew; They met next day as he dismissed a squad: And jestingly she made pretence That nothing else would do ... But the green eye of the little yellow god. On the night before the dance 'Mad' Carew seemed in a trance, And they chaffed him As they pulled at their cigars, But for once he failed to smile, And he sat alone awhile, Then went out into the night.. beneath the stars. |
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He returned, before the dawn,
With his shirt and tunic torn, And a gash across his temples... dripping red. He was patched up right away, And he slept all through the day While the Colonel's daughter Watched beside his bed. He woke at last and asked her If she'd send his tunic through. She brought it and he thanked her with a nod. He bade her search the pocket, Saying, 'That's from "Mad" Carew,' And she found ... the little green eye of the god. She upbraided poor Carew, In the way that women do, Although her eyes were strangely hot and wet, But she would not take the stone, And Carew was left alone With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get. When the ball was at its height On that still and tropic night, She thought of him ... and hastened to his room. As she crossed the barrack square She could hear the dreamy air Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom. His door was open wide, With silver moonlight shining through; The place was wet and slippery where she trod; An ugly knife lay buried In the heart of 'Mad' Carew ... 'Twas the vengeance of the little yellow god. |
There's a one-eyed yellow idol
To the north of Kathmandu; There's a little marble cross below the town; And a brokenhearted woman Tends the grave of 'Mad' Carew, While the yellow god for ever gazes down. |
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