The Four Points

A poem by Rudyard Kipling

Ere stopping or turning, to put foorth a hande
Is a charm that thy daies may be long in the land.

Though seventy-times-seven thee Fortune befriend,
O'ertaking at corners is Death in the end.

Sith main-roads for side-roads care nothing, have care
Both to slow and to blow when thou enterest there.

Drink as thou canst hold it, but after is best;
For Drink with men's Driving makes Crowners to Quest.

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