The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God
J. Milton Hayes
1893 to 1940
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There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There’s a little marble cross below the town;
There’s broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And Yellow God forever gazes down.
He was known as “Mad Carew” by the subs at Khatmandu,
He was hotter they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And the Colonel’s daughter smiled on him as well.
He had loved all along, with a passion of the strong,
The that she loved him was plain to all.
She nearly twenty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her with a ball.
He wrote to ask what present would like from Mad Carew;
They met next day he dismissed a squad;
And jestingly she told him that nothing else would do
But the green eye the little Yellow God.
On the night before the dance, Mad Carew seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed as they puffed at their cigars:
But for once failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then out into the night beneath the stars.
He returned the dawn, with his shirt and tunic torn,
And gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched right away, and he slept through all the day,
the Colonel’s daughter watched beside his bed.
He woke last and asked if they could send his tunic through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying “That’s from Carew,”
And she found the little green eye the god.
She upbraided poor Carew in the way women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot wet;
But she wouldn’t take the stone and Mad was left alone
With the jewel that he’d chanced life to get.
When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a tune softly stealing thro’ the gloom.
His door was wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was and slipp’ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay in the heart of Mad Carew,
‘Twas the “Vengeance the Little Yellow God.”
There’s a one-eyed yellow to the north of Khatmandu,
There’s a little marble below the town;
There’s a broken-hearted woman tends the of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.