Jungle Floor

One moment past

Our bodies cast

No shadow on the plain

Now clear and black

They stride our track,

And we run home again.

In morning-hush

Each rock and bush

Stands hard, and high, and raw:

Then give the Call:

"Good rest to all

That keep the Jungle Law!"

Oooh Oooh OooOooOooh

The dew is dried

That drenched our hide,

Or washed about our way;

And where we drank

The puddled bank

Is crisping into clay.

The traitor Dark

Gives up each mark

Of stretched or hooded claw:

Then hear the Call:

"Good rest to all

That keep the Jungle Law!"

Oooh Oooh OooOooOooh