Explore "Gethsemane" by Rudyard Kipling on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The Garden called Gethsemane / In Picardy it was, / And there the people came to see / The English soldiers pass. / We used to pass -- we used to pass / Or halt, as it might be, / And ship our masks in case of gas / Beyond Gethsemane.
The Garden called Gethsemane, / It held a pretty lass, / But all the time she talked to me / I prayed my cup might pass. / The officer sat on the chair, / The men lay on the grass, / And all the time we halted there / I prayed my cup might pass --
It didn't pass -- it didn't pass -- / It didn't pass from me. / I drank it when we met the gas / Beyond Gethsemane.