"I AM NAG," SAID THE COBRA: "LOOK, AND BE AFRAID!", BUT AT THE BOTTOM OF HIS COLD HEART HE WAS AFRAID.

SINGER and tailor am I —

Doubled the joys that I know —

Troud of my lilt to 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.

Sing to your fledglings again,

Mother, O lift up-your head !

Evil that plagued us is slain,

Death in the garden lies dead.

Terror that hid in the roses is impotent — flung on the dunghill and dead !

Who hath delivered us, who ?

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.

Give him the Thanks of the Birds,

Bowing with tail-feathers spread !

Praise him in nightingale-words —

Nay, I will praise him instead.

Hear ! I will sing you the praise of the bottle-tailed Rikki, with eyeballs of red !

(Here Rikki-tikki interrupted, and the rest of the song is lost.)