Singer And Tailor Am I, Doubled The Joys That I Know, Proud 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, 0 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 Dung-Hill 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 Rkki-Tikki Interrupted, And The Rest Of The Song Is Lost.)