Poems by Rudyard Kipling

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March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies.
One moment bid the horses wait,
"Saint Praxed's ever was the Church for peace"
He drank strong waters and his speech was coarse;
These are our regulations,
My father's father saw it not,
Our Lord Who did the Ox command
Take of English earth as much
R. L. Stevenson - The Muse Among the Motors (1900-1930)
Lest you should think this story true
What is the song the children sing,
I could not dig; I dared not rob:
"This is the State above the Law.
And they were stronger hands than mine
And they were stronger hands than mine
Since first the White Horse Banner blew free,
We are very slightly changed
This is the reason why Rustum Beg,
Once on a time, the ancient legends tell,
When a lover hies abroad
The Babe was laid in the Manger
Like Princes crowned they bore them,
Rome never looks where she treads.
I do not look for holy saints to guide me on my way
To all to whom this little book may come,
What boots it on the Gods to call?
The, Gods that are wiser than Learning
Once red ripple came to land
"Let us now praise famous men",
Three things make earth unquiet
If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse's feet,
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
Be well assured that on our side
Friend, thou beholdest the lightning? Who has the charge of it,
Have you no Bananas, simple townsmen all?
Now praise the Gods of Time and Chance
Oh, light was the world that he weighed in his hands!
Fair is our lot, O goodly is our heritage!
Now, this is the cup the White Men drink
Where's the lamp that Hero lit
Mithras, God of the Morning, our trumpets waken the Wall!
"A Priest in Spite of Himself"
Where the sober-colored cultivator smiles
I'm just in love with all these three,
There are whose study is of smells,
Of all the trees that grow so fair,
THE BRICKLAYER:
Jelaludin Muhammed Akbar, Guardian of Mankind,
There's a pasture in a valley where the hanging woods divide,
The American Spirit speaks:
To the Heavens above us
Now this is the tale of the Council the German Kaiser decreed,
So long as 'neath the Kalka hills
Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah, heave her short again!
Song of the Returning Hunter (Esquimaux) - "Quiquern", The Second Jungle Book
A great and glorious thing it is
Old is the song that I sing,
I
As I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a comely
"The Manner of Men" - St. Paul
From every quarter of your land
"Uncovenanted Mercies" - From "Limits and Renewals" [1930]
I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at,
'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house,
"Once in so often," King Solomon said,
When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
Written for John Lockwood Kipling's
Before a midnight breaks in storm,
There was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dublin Quay,
"Oh, where are you going to, all you Big Steamers,
"'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins?"
March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies.
Roses red and roses white
[Field Marshal Lord Roberts of Kandahar]
We're foot, slog, slog, slog, sloggin' over Africa,
"... and will supply details to guard the Blood River Bridge." - District Orders-Lines of Communication, South African War.
I was very well pleased with what I knowed,
In the days of lace-ruffles, perukes and brocade
"And there is a Japanese idol at Kamakura"
Eyes aloft, over dangerous places,
"To Be Filed For Reference", Plain Tales From the Hills
Not though you die to-night, O Sweet, and wail,
Cain and Abel were brothers born.
Dellius, that car which, night and day,
I've a head like a concertina: I've a tongue like a button-stick,
I.
Me that 'ave been what I've been,
Plain Tales From the Hills
When the cabin port-holes are dark and green
Unto whose use the pregnant suns are poised,
The doors were wide, the story saith,
’Less you want your toes trod off you’d better get back at once,
So we settled it all when the storm was done
There was a strife ’twixt man and maid
Colour fulfils where Music has no power:
These were my companions going forth by night
We've got the cholerer in camp, it's worse than forty fights;
Dim dawn behind the tamerisks, the sky is saffron-yellow,
Cities and Thrones and Powers
Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,
Gold is for the mistress, silver for the maid,
Out o' the wilderness, dusty an' dry
If any questions why we died,
The drowsy carrier sways
We thought we ranked above the chance of ill.
As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine,
Tell it to the locked-up trees,
Pit where the buffalo cooled his hide,
It is always a temptation to an armed and agile nation
"What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade.
Singer and tailor am I,
Yet at the last, ere our spearmen had found him,
To the City of Bombay
Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled,
The wrecks dissolve above us; their dust drops down from afar,
We have another viceroy now, those days are dead and done
She did not know that she was dead,
Who recalls the twilight and the ranged tents in order
It was an artless Bandar, and he danced upon a pine,
Man dies too soon, beside his works half-planned.
Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid
Naked and grey the Cotswolds stand
"Behold there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor." I Samuel, xxviii. 7.
Truly ye come of The Blood; slower to bless than to ban;
“EQUALITY OF SACRIFICE”
In extended observation of the ways and works of man,
Read here:
We meet in an evil land
To-night, God knows what thing shall tide,
Farewell and adieu to you,
This is the end whereto men toiled
There was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot,
For all we have and are,
he Injian Ocean sets an' smiles
Kabul town's by Kabul river,
I have done mostly what most men do,
When Samson set my brush afire
Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all
Old Horn to All Atlantic said:
Gow. Had it been your Prince instead of a groom caught in this noose there’s not an astrologer of the city,
Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining
(Soudan Expeditionary Force)
All day long to the judgment-seat
Whence comest thou, Gehazi,
With those that bred, with those that loosed the strife,
To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,
That which is marred at birth Time shall not mend,
The Garden called Gethsemane
Imprimus he was "broke." Thereafter left
Unless you come of the gipsy stock
Aa—or - Cahors?
Because I sought it far from men,
ACT II. SCENE 2.
The Head of the Bargi Pass, in snow. Gow and Ferdinand with their Captains.
After the Battle. The PRINCESS by the Standard on the Ravelin.
Theodore Roosevelt
You may talk o' gin and beer
Who knows the heart of the Christian? How does he reason?
When by the labour of my 'ands
What is a woman that you forsake her,
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
There was darkness under Heaven
"What's that that hirples at my side?"
Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
Cry "Murder" in the market-place, and each
The stream is shrunk, the pool is dry,
So we settled it all when the storm was done
I am the Most Wise Baviaan, saying in Most wise tones,
This Uninhabited Island
When the cabin port-holes are dark and green
As the dawn was breaking the Sambhur belled,
The earth is full of anger,
The careful text-books measure
Oh, long had we paltered
Dread Mother of Forgetfulness
I keep six honest serving-men
If you can keep your head when all about you
They burnt a corpse upon the sand,
My garden blazes brightly with the rose-bush and the peach,
A stone's throw out on either hand
When, foot to wheel and back to wind,
In the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage
The child of Mary Queen of Scots,
Jane went to Paradise:
“Blessed be the English and all their ways and works.
Jubal sang of the Wrath of God
When the cabin port-holes are dark and green
Across a world where all men grieve
His spots are the joy of the Leopard: his horns are the Buffalo’s pride.
Eyes aloft over dangerous places,
Unto whose use the pregnant suns are poised,
Harry, our King in England, from London town is gone,
Oh, Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast!
The smoke upon your Altar dies,
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield,
My new-cut ashlar takes the light
A much-discerning Public hold
I turned Heaven knows we women turn too much
Late came the God, having sent his forerunners who were not regarded,
Veil them, cover them, wall them round,
Smells are surer than sounds or sights
Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these
Why gird at Lollius if he care
When you come to London Town,
If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back,
He passed in the very battle-smoke
I met my mates in the morning (and oh, but I am old!)
"As easy as A B C" A Diversity of Creatures"
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
'Less you want your toes trod of you'd better get back at once,
If you stop to find out what your wages will be
You call yourself a man,
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
"The eradication of memories of the Great War. - Socialist Government Organ.
There runs a road by Merrow Down,
They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young,
Dawn off the Foreland, the young flood making
One moment past our bodies cast
If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Now Chil the Kite brings home the night
The Song of Mowgli, I, Mowgli, am singing. Let the jungle listen to the things I have done.
I will let loose against you the fleet-footed vines,
The fear was on the cattle, for the gale was on the sea,
"Why is my District death-rate low?"
Have you news of my boy Jack?"
There are four good legs to my Father's Chair,
The Law whereby my lady moves
My New-Cut ashlar takes the light
I go to concert, party, ball,
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
‘Go, wash thyself in Jordan, go, wash thee and be clean! ‘
Primitive
The man that is open of heart to his neighbour,
Non nobis Domine!,
"My son," said the Norman Baron, "I am dying, and you will be heir
So long as memory, valour, and faith endure,
All the world over, nursing their scars,
Old Mother Laidinwool had nigh twelve months been dead.
So here's your Empire. No more wine, then?
Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 'im to perspire?
"Below the Mill Dam" - Traffics and Discoveries
"A Doctor of Medicine", Rewards and Fairies
There was a Priest at Philæ,
A nation spoke to a Nation,
Baloo
The toad beneath the harrow knows
It’s forty in the shade to-day, the spouting eaves declare;
- Elephants of the Gun-Teams
". . . Consider that the meritorious services of the Sergeant Instructors attached to the Egyptian Army haue been inadequately acknowledged. . . .
If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning,
I do not love my Empire’s foes,
Go, stalk the red deer o'er the heather,
They are fools who kiss and tell",
“Poison of asps is under our lips”?
Your jar of Virginny
When the robust and Brass-bound Man commissioned first for sea
Ay, lay him 'neath the Simla pine,
To all to whom this little book may come,
I have eaten your bread and salt.
I have eaten your bread and salt,
My girl she give me the go onest,
Prophets have honour all over the Earth,
Walpole talks of "a man and his price."
See you the ferny ride that steals
The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow,
Rahere, King Henry’s jester, feared by all the Norman Lords
If any God should say,
God of our fathers, known of old,
For our white and our excellent nights, for the nights of swift running,
As tho’ again, yea, even once again,
Then we brought the lances down, then the trumpets blew,
At the hole where he went in
When I left Rome for Lalage's sake,
Duly with knees that feign to quake,
Here we go in a flung festoon,
Oh, little did the Wolf-Child care,
We're marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains,
God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,
Like as the Oak whose roots descend
When the Waters were dried an' the Earth did appear,
Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin' cool,
Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us
Swifter than aught 'neath the sun the car of Simonides moved him.
Speakin' in general, I'ave tried 'em all
Seven Watchmen sitting in a tower,
My name is O'Kelly, I've heard the Revelly
Shiv, who poured the harvest and made the winds to blow,
I followed my Duke ere I was a lover,
This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corps
As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the Crocodile,
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
The God of Fair Beginnings
Once again the Steamer at Calais, the tackles
How do I know what Order brings
We now, held in captivity,
Where first by Eden Tree
We pulled for you when the wind was against us and the sails were low.
Once we feared The Beast when he followed us we ran,
Once we feared The Beast, when he followed us we ran,
‘And thou shalt make a candlestick of pure gold: of beaten work shall the candlestick be made: his shaft, and his branches, his bowls, his knops, and his flowers, shall be of the same . . . .
Shove off from the wharf-edge! Steady!
When the darkened Fifties dip to the North,
Once again the Steamer at Calais, the tackles
Lived a woman wonderful,
The general ’eard the firin’ on the flank,
This ditty is a string of lies.
Such as in Ships and brittle Barks
God gave all men all earth to love,
I closed and drew for my love's sake
It got beyond all orders an' it got beyond all 'ope;
I've paid for your sickest fancies; I've humoured your crackedest whim,
The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone;
When you've shouted "Rule Britannia," when you've sung "God save the Queen,"
Whether to wend through straight streets strictly,
Before
A Rose, in tatters on the garden path,
Norman Conquest, 1066
It I have given you delight
Seven men from all the world back to Docks again,
This is the ballad of Ahmed Shah
This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
That night, when through the mooring-chains
One moment bid the horses wait,
"The Tree of Justice", Rewards and Fairies
Seven men from all the world back to Docks again,
It was our war-ship Clampherdown
"Now this is the price of a stirrup-cup,"
When spring-time flushes the desert grass,
Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told.
Red Earl, and will ye take for guide
'Dymchurch Flit', Puck of Pook's Hill.
"The Mother Hive", Actions and Reactions
Lo! What is this that I make, sudden, supreme, unrehearsed,
I've never sailed the Amazon,
It was not part of their blood,
They christened my brother of old,
"Gay go up and gay go down
Ah! What avails the classic bent
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
The miracle of our land's speech so known
We know the Rocket’s upward whizz;
Hastily Adam our driver swallowed a curse in the darkness,
Petrolio, vaunting his Mercedes' power,
For things we never mention,
In the daytime, when she moved about me,
One grief on me is laid
(C. F. Rhodes, buried in the Matoppos, April 10, 1902)
The Camel's hump is an ugly lump
Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining
Pussy can sit by the fire and sing,
Up came the young Centaur-colts from the plains they were fathered in,
Or ever the battered liners sank
These were our children who died for our lands: they were dear in our sight.
Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee
To the Judge of Right and Wrong
"Here was a people whom after their works
("The Brushwood Boy", The Day's Work)
The merry clerks of Oxenford they stretch themselves at ease
Our brows are bound with spindrift and the weed is on our knees;
Against the Bermudas we foundered, whereby
Until thy feet have trod the Road
Blessed was our first age and morning-time. Then were no waies tarren, ne no cars numberen, but each followed his owne playinge-busyness to go about singly or by large interspaces, for to leden his viage after his luste and layen under clene hedge.
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Ride with an idle whip, ride with an unused heel,
We thought we ranked above the chance of ill.
China-going P. & O.'s
Once, after long-drawn revel at The Mermaid,
Long years ago, ere R--lls or R--ce
At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen,
We now, held in captivity,
Who in the Realm to-day lays down dear life for the sake of a land more dear?
On the reassembling of Parliament after the Coronation, the Government have no intention of allowing their followers to vote according to their convictions on the Declaration of London, but insist on a strictly party vote. - Daily Papers
Now it is not good for the Christian's health to hustle the Aryan brown,
The wrecks dissolve above us; their dust drops down from afar,
I was the staunchest of our fleet
The strength of twice three thousand horse
He that hath a Gospel
The freed dove flew to the Rajah's tower,
If wars were won by feasting,
Wheel me gently to the garage, since my car and I must part,
We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar,
The wind took off with the sunset,
Winds of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro,
After the fight at Otterburn,
Now the new year reviving old desires,
Youth that trafficked long with Death,
Love and Death once ceased their strife
There's no sense in going further, it's the edge of cultivation,"
When all the world would keep a matter hid,
I have been given my charge to keep,
This fell when dinner-time was done
Now the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose,
When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
Files
Men make them fires on the hearth
Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her:
When the grey geese heard the Fool's tread
The rain it rains without a stay
Buy my English posies!
As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
Ere stopping or turning, to put foorth a hande
The boats of Newhaven and Folkestone and Dover
I had some friends, but I dreamed that they were dead,
Oh, gallant was our galley from her carven steering-wheel
The dead child lay in the shroud,
The white moth to the closing bine,
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
There's a widow in sleepy Chester
We knew thee of old,
Our Fathers in a wondrous age,
"For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that built Mansoul, that the walls could never be broken down nor hurt by the most mighty adverse potentate unless the townsmen gave consent thereto." - BUNYAN'S Holy War.
Sooner or late, in earnest or in jest,
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
After the burial-parties leave
Dread Mother of Forgetfulness
He wandered down the moutain grade
At times when under cover I 'ave said,
Time and Space decreed his lot,
We're not so old in the Army List,
No doubt but ye are the People-your throne is above the King's.
Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' Arabi,
There are three degrees of bliss
When the drums begin to beat
Now Chil the Kite brings home the night
Once a pair of savages found a stranded tree.
With them there rode a lustie Engineere
"Farewell, Romance!" the Cave-men said;
After His Realms and States were moved
These are the Four that are never content, that have never be filled since the Dews began,
Once on a time was a King anxious to understand
Our King went forth on pilgrimage
After the sack of the City, when Rome was sunk to a name,
Now we are come to our Kingdom,
I've taken my fun where I've found it;
O woe is me for the merry life
When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald,
There was a landau deep and wide,
"And there was no more sea."
Twelve hundred million men are spread
How do we know, by the bank-high river,
As watchers couched beneath a Bantine oak,
There were thirty million English who talked of England's might,
The King has called for priest and cup,
Not many years ago a King died in one of the Rajpoot States. His wives, disregarding the orders of the English against Suttee, would have broken out of the palace had not the gates been barred. But one of them, disguised as the King's favourite danci
Now this is the Law of the Jungle, as old and as true as the sky;
I
The Four Archangels, so the legends tell,
Rajah of Kolazai,
I
Let us admit it fairly, as a business people should,
So we settled it all when the storm was done
The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds,
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield,
Queen Bess was Harry’s daughter. Stand forward partners all!
There's a Legion that never was listed,
Alone upon the housetops to the North
Eyes of grey, a sodden quay,
In Lowestoft a boat was laid,
Shun, shun the Bowl! That fatal, facile drink
Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse
The bachelor 'e fights for one
I've paid for your sickest fancies; I've humoured your crackedest whim,
Argument. The Indian Government being minded to discover the economic condition of their lands, sent a Committee to inquire into it; and saw that it was good.
With us there rade a Maister-Cook that came
A Song of Instruction
King Solomon drew merchantmen,
The night we felt the earth would move
I sent a message to my dear,
Beneath the deep veranda's shade,
You mustn't groom an Arab with a file.
One moment past our bodies cast
I have a dream, a dreadful dream,
There was Rundle, Station Master,
We've drunk to the Queen, God bless her!,
There was a strife 'twixt man and maid,
I know not in Whose hands are laid
Who gives him the Bath?
Where the East wind is brewed fresh and fresh every morning,
When, with a pain he desires to explain to the multitude, Baby
Our sister sayeth such and such,
Here is nothing new nor aught unproven," say the Trumpets,
This is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end,
"These were never your true love's eyes.
She dropped the bar, she shot the bolt, she fed the fire anew
England is a cosy little country,
When the earth was sick and the skies were grey,
Through learned and laborious years
In the name of the Empress of India, make way,
When I was a King and a Mason, a Master proven and skilled,
We’ve rode and fought and ate and drunk as rations* come to hand,
The Word came down to Dives in Torment where he lay:
Once in life I watched a Star;
When Rome was rotten-ripe to her fall,
When Rome was rotten-ripe to her fall,
She is not Folly, that I know.
Too late, alas! the song
0h, late withdrawn from human-kind
Though tangled and twisted the course of true love
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
I see the grass shake in the sun for leagues on either hand,
My brother kneels, so saith Kabir,
From the wheel and the drift of Things
The Soldier may forget his Sword,
The overfaithful sword returns the user
Here come I to my own again,
This spark now set, retarded, yet forbears
The Celt in all his variants from Builth to Ballyhoo,
"I have a thousand men," said he,
Valour and Innocence
Brethren, how shall it fare with me
The knight came home from the quest,
If Thought can reach to Heaven,
I am the land of their fathers,
At Runnymede, At Runnymede,
Not in the camp his victory lies
Peace is declared, and I return
Neither the harps nor the crowns amused, nor the cherubs' dove-winged races,
... At the close of a winter day,
Away by the lands of the Japanee
Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew,
Legate, I had the news last night, my cohort ordered home
It was not in the open fight
The banked oars fell an hundred strong,
The Weald is good, the Downs are best,
A smith makes me
News!
Now the New Year, reviving last Year's Debt,
Strangers drawn from the ends of the earth, jewelled and plumed were we;
Er-Heb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai
“Oh, show me how a rose can shut and be a bud again!”
Who hath desired the Sea?, the sight of salt wind-hounded,
There dwells a wife by the Northern Gate,
We've sent our little Cupids all ashore,
We were taken from the ore-bed and the mine,
'E was warned agin' 'er,
Three things make earth unquiet
“Tommy” you was when it began,
Here, where my fresh-turned furrows run,
We now, held in captivity,
Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant
This is the mouth-filling song of the race that was run by a Boomer.
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
The God of Fair Beginnings
I was Lord of Cities very sumptuously builded.
You couldn't pack a Broadwood half a mile,
BOMBAY
Hear now the Song of the Dead, in the North by the torn berg-edges,
Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry,
Know this, my brethren, Heaven is clear
One from the ends of the earth, gifts at an open door,
How shall she know the worship we would do her?
Being the Words of the Tune Hummed at Her Lathe by Mrs. L. Embsay, Widow
The Sons of Mary seldom bother, for they have inherited that good part;
There are not leaders to lead us to honour, and yet without leaders we sally,
Man goes to Man! Cry the challenge through the Jungle!
This is the midnight-let no star
Once, on a glittering ice-field, ages and ages ago,
"Now there were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor."
The Stranger within my gate,
I pray! My little body and whole span
!Full Chorus.
Securely, after days
There's no wind along these seas,
One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to rail.
In their deepest caverns of limestone
Ere the mother's milk had dried
Thirteen as twelve my Murray always took,
They bear, in place of classic names,
Yearly, with tent and rifle, our careless white men go
Valour and Innocence
Much I owe to the Lands that grew,
There is a word you often see, pronounce it as you may,
"To-tschin-shu is condemned to death.
A fool there was and he made his prayer
Not in the thick of the fight,
To-day, across our fathers' graves,
At the eleventh hour he came,
Try as he will, no man breaks wholly loose
The gull shall whistle in his wake, the blind wave break in fire,
Oh, glorious are the guarded heights
From the date that the doors of his prep-school close
Put forth to watch, unschooled, alone,
They shut the road through the woods
When the waters' countenance
Take up the White man's burden
Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
"Where have you been this while away,
For a season there must be pain
What the moral? Who rides may read.
Life's all getting and giving,
When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
The ’eathen in ’is blindness bows down to wood an’ stone;
"And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren and they hated him yet the more.", Genesis xxxvii. 5.
There´s no wind along these seas,
There were three friends that buried the fourth,
Stopped in the straight when the race was his own
What of the hunting, hunter bold?
The ships destroy us above
Love's fiery chariot, Delia, take
Your trail runs to the westward,
Since ye distemper and defile
I have made for you a song,
The Cities are full of pride,
How comes it that, at even-tide,
Thy face is far from this our war,
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?
I have made for you a song
Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled,
The World hath set its heavy yoke
Where Horse and Rider each can trust the other everywhere,
Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost in his house in Berkeley Square,
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
I will remember what I was. I am sick of rope and chain,
Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea:
Only two African kopjes,
June
I seek not what his soul desires.
There is a word you often see, pronounce it as you may
The dark eleventh hour
Nothing in life has been made by man for man's using
Here is a horse to tame
On the Downs, in the Weald, on the Marshes,
Father and Mother, and Me,
Hurree Chunder Mookerjee, pride of Bow Bazaar,
By the well, where the bullocks go
When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
When Earth's last picture is painted and the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the Great Ark, in Vigo Bay,
When that with meat and drink they had fulfilled
Where run your colts at pasture?
(Deserters)
South and far south below the Line,
More than a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi, an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after the day was lost with a beggar-girl, who had loved him and followed him in all his camps, on his saddle-bow. He lost the girl when almost w
More than a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi, an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after the day was lost with a beggar-girl, who had loved him and followed him in all his camps, on his saddle-bow. He lost the girl when almost with
Yet at the last, ere our spearmen had found him,
You must n't swim till you're six weeks old,
The Doorkeepers of Zion,

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