Rudyard Kipling

“ And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove, But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love. Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire? Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire? Open the old cigar-box—let me consider anew— Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you? A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke; And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke. ”

“ She held a dozen men to heel— Rich spoil of war was hers, In hose and gown and ring and chain, From twenty mariners, And, by Port Law, that week, men called her Salem Hardieker's. But seamen learnt—what landsmen know— That neither gifts nor gain Can hold a winking Light o' Love Or Fancy's flight restrain, When Anne of Austria rolled her eyes On Hans the blue-eyed Dane. Since Life is strife, and strife means knife, From Howrah to the Bay, And he may die before the dawn Who liquored out the day, In Fultah Fisher's boarding-house We woo while yet we may. ”

“ As a derelict ship drifts away with the tide The Captain went out on the Past from his Bride, Back, back, through the springs to the chill of the year, When he hunted the Boh from Maloon to Tsaleer. As the shape of a corpse dimmers up through deep water, In his eye lit the passionless passion of slaughter, And men who had fought with O'Neil for the life Had gazed on his face with less dread than his wife. ”

“ For he saith: “The wheat is my care, And the rest is the will of God. “He sent the Mahratta spear As He sendeth the rain, And the Mlech, in the fated year, Broke the spear in twain. “And was broken in turn. Who knows How our Lords make strife? It is good that the young wheat grows, For the bread is Life.” Then, far and near, as the twilight drew, Hissed up to the scornful dark Great serpents, blazing, of red and blue, That rose and faded, and rose anew. That the Land might wonder and mark “Today is a day of days,” they said, “Make merry, O People, all!” ”

“ Then madness took him, and men declare He mowed in the branches as ape and bear, And last as a sloth, ere his body failed, And he hung as a bat in the forks, and wailed, And sleep the cord of his hands untied, And he fell, and was caught on the points and died. “Heart of my heart, is it meet or wise To warn a King of his enemies? We know what Heaven or Hell may bring, But no man knoweth the mind of the King. “Of the gray-coat coming who can say? When the night is gathering all is gray. “To things greater than all things are, The first is Love, and the second War. ”

“ SCREW-GUNS Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin' cool, I walks in my old brown gaiters along o' my old brown mule, With seventy gunners be'ind me, an' never a beggar forgets It's only the pick of the Army that handles the dear little pets—'Tss! 'Tss! For you all love the screw-guns—the screw-guns they all love you! So when we call round with a few guns, o' course you will know what to do—hoo! hoo! Jest send in your Chief an' surrender— it's worse if you fights or you runs: You can go where you please, you can skid up the trees, but you don't get away from the guns! ”

“ And little she knew that the loving lips Had ordered a quivering life's eclipse, And the eye that lit at her lightest breath Had glared unawed in the Gates of Death. (For these be matters a man would hide, As a general rule, from an innocent Bride.) And little the Captain thought of the past, And, of all men, Babu Harendra last. But slow, in the sludge of the Kathun road, The Government Bullock Train toted its load. Speckless and spotless and shining with ghee, In the rearmost cart sat the Babu-jee. And ever a phantom before him fled Of a scowling Boh with a silver head. ”

“ Maggie, my wife at fifty—grey and dour and old— With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold! And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are, And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar— The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket— With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket! ”

“ And the Babu above him, convulsed with fear, Heard the labouring life-breath hissed out in his ear. And thus in a fashion undignified The princely pest of the Chindwin died. Turn now to Simoorie where, lapped in his ease, The Captain is petting the Bride on his knees, Where the whit of the bullet, the wounded man's scream Are mixed as the mist of some devilish dream— Forgotten, forgotten the sweat of the shambles Where the hill-daisy blooms and the gray monkey gambols, From the sword-belt set free and released from the steel, The Peace of the Lord is with Captain O'Neil. ”

“ The West Wind called:—“In squadrons the thoughtless galleons fly That bear the wheat and cattle lest street-bred people die. They make my might their porter, they make my house their path, Till I loose my neck from their rudder and whelm them all in my wrath. “I draw the gliding fog-bank as a snake is drawn from the hole, They bellow one to the other, the frighted ship-bells toll, For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud with my breath, And they see strange bows above them and the two go locked to death. ”

“ For every time I raised the low That scared the dusty plain, By sword and cord, by torch and tow I'll light the land with twain! Ride hard, ride hard to Abazai, Young Sahib with the yellow hair— Lie close, lie close as khuttucks lie, Fat herds below Bonair! The one I'll shoot at twilight-tide, At dawn I'll drive the other; The black shall mourn for hoof and hide, The white man for his brother. 'Tis war, red war, I'll give you then, War till my sinews fail; For the wrong you have done to a chief of men, And a thief of the Zukka Kheyl. ”

“ The steer may low within the byre, The Jat may tend his grain, But there'll be neither loot nor fire Till I come back again. And God have mercy on the Jat When once my fetters fall, And Heaven defend the farmer's hut When I am loosed from thrall. It's woe to bend the stubborn back Above the grinching quern, It's woe to hear the leg-bar clack And jingle when I turn! But for the sorrow and the shame, The brand on me and mine, I'll pay you back in leaping flame And loss of the butchered kine. ”

“ Swung round to take the cruiser's fire As the White Whale faces the Thresher's ire When they war by the frozen Pole. “Captain, the shells are falling fast, And faster still fall we; And it is not meet for English stock To bide in the heart of an eight-day clock The death they cannot see.” “Lie down, lie down, my bold A.B., We drift upon her beam; We dare not ram, for she can run; And dare ye fire another gun, And die in the peeling steam?” ”

“ THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S JEST When spring-time flushes the desert grass, Our kafilas wind through the Khyber Pass. Lean are the camels but fat the frails, Light are the purses but heavy the bales, As the snowbound trade of the North comes down To the market-square of Peshawur town. In a turquoise twilight, crisp and chill, A kafila camped at the foot of the hill. ”

“ By all that lights our daily life Or works our lifelong woe, From Boileaugunge to Simla Downs And those grim glades below, Where, heedless of the flying hoof And clamour overhead, Sleep, with the grey langur for guard Our very scornful Dead, If you love me as I love you All Earth is servant to us two! ”

“ Never the lotus closes, never the wild-fowl wake, But a soul goes out on the East Wind that died for England's sake— Man or woman or suckling, mother or bride or maid— Because on the bones of the English the English Flag is stayed. “The desert-dust hath dimmed it, the flying wild-ass knows, The scared white leopard winds it across the taintless snows. What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my sun to dare, Ye have but my sands to travel. ”

“ Tear it to pieces, O Fool, and the wind to her mate shall return it! If there be trouble to Herward, and a lie of the blackest can clear, Lie, while thy lips can move or a man is alive to hear. XVI. My Son, if a maiden deny thee and scufflingly bid thee give o'er, Yet lip meets with lip at the last word—get out! She has been there before. They are pecked on the ear and the chin and the nose who are lacking in lore. XVII. If we fall in the race, though we win, the hoof-slide is scarred on the course. Though Allah and Earth pardon Sin, remaineth forever Remorse. ”

“ The Lords of Their Hands assembled; from the East and the West they drew— Baltimore, Lille, and Essen, Brummagem, Clyde, and Crewe. And some were black from the furnace, and some were brown from the soil, And some were blue from the dye-vat; but all were wearied of toil. And the young King said:—“I have found it, the road to the rest ye seek: The strong shall wait for the weary, the hale shall halt for the weak; With the even tramp of an army where no man breaks from the line, Ye shall march to peace and plenty in the bond of brotherhood—sign!” ”

“ Then Tomlinson he gripped the bars and yammered, “Let me in— For I mind that I borrowed my neighbour's wife to sin the deadly sin.” The Devil he grinned behind the bars, and banked the fires high: “Did ye read of that sin in a book?” said he; and Tomlinson said, “Ay!” The Devil he blew upon his nails, and the little devils ran, And he said: “Go husk this whimpering thief that comes in the guise of a man: Winnow him out 'twixt star and star, and sieve his proper worth: There's sore decline in Adam's line if this be spawn of earth.” ”

“ Go back to Earth with a lip unsealed—go back with an open eye, And carry my word to the Sons of Men or ever ye come to die: That the sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one— And...the God that you took from a printed book be with you, Tomlinson! ”

“ Last night ye had struck at a Border thief— tonight 'tis a man of the Guides!” Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth! ”

“ But ere the rush of the unseen feet Had reached the turn to the open street, The bars shot down, the guard-drum beat— We held the dovecot still. A face looked down in the gathering day, And laughing spoke from the wall: “Ohe', they mourn here: let me by— Azizun, the Lucknow nautch-girl, I! When the house is rotten, the rats must fly, And I seek another thrall. “For I ruled the King as ne'er did Queen,— Tonight the Queens rule me! Guard them safely, but let me go, Or ever they pay the debt they owe In scourge and torture!” ”

“ Price of Blood Much cheap at one hundred, and children want food; “So trusting Your Honour will somewhat retain True love and affection for Govt. Bullock Train, “And show awful kindness to satisfy me, I am, Graceful Master, Your H. MUKERJI.” As the rabbit is drawn to the rattlesnake's power, As the smoker's eye fills at the opium hour, As a horse reaches up to the manger above, As the waiting ear yearns for the whisper of love, From the arms of the Bride, iron-visaged and slow, The Captain bent down to the Head of the Boh. ”

“ First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts, For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your guts— Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts— An' it's bad for the young British soldier. Bad, bad, bad for the soldier... When the cholera comes—as it will past a doubt— Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout, For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out, An' it crumples the young British soldier. ”

“ Kamal said, “who leads a troop of the Guides, And thou must ride at his left side as shield on shoulder rides. Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed, Thy life is his—thy fate it is to guard him with thy head. ”

“ A breath of wind, a Border bullet's flight, A draught of water, or a horse's fright— The droning of the fat Sheristadar Ceases, the punkah stops, and falls the night For you or Me. Do those who live decline The step that offers, or their work resign? ”

“ Old as the Ten Commandments, have ye talked those laws away? If words are words, or death is death, or powder sends the ball, You spoke the words that sped the shot—the curse be on you all. “Our friends believe”? Of course they do—as sheltered women may; But have they seen the shrieking soul ripped from the quivering clay? They—If their own front door is shut, they'll swear the whole world's warm; What do they know of dread of death or hanging fear of harm? ”

“ They ever told the ramping crowd to card a woman's hide, They never marked a man for death—what fault of theirs he died?— They only said “intimidate,” and talked and went away— By God, the boys that did the work were braver men than they! Their sin it was that fed the fire—small blame to them that heard The “bhoys” get drunk on rhetoric, and madden at the word— They knew whom they were talking at, if they were Irish too, The gentlemen that lied in Court, they knew and well they knew. ”

“ One sword-knot stolen from the camp Will pay for all the school expenses Of any Kurrum Valley scamp Who knows no word of moods and tenses, But, being blessed with perfect sight, Picks off our messmates left and right. With home-bred hordes the hillsides teem, The troop-ships bring us one by one, At vast expense of time and steam, To slay Afridis where they run. ”

“ Empusa's crew, so naked-new they may not face the fire, But weep that they bin too small to sin to the height of their desire, Over the coal they chased the Soul, and racked it all abroad, As children rifle a caddis-case or the raven's foolish hoard. ”