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Category Rudyard Kipling

A Truthful Song

THE BRICKLAYER:  I tell this tale, which is strictly true,  Just by way of convincing you  How very little, since things were made,  Things have altered in building trade.   A year ago, come the middle of March,  We was…

The Truce of the Bear

Yearly, with tent and rifle, our careless white men goBy the Pass called Muttianee, to shoot in the vale below.Yearly by Muttianee he follows our white men in —Matun, the old blind beggar, bandaged from brow to chin. Eyeless, noseless,…

Troopin’

(Our Army in the East) Troopin’, troopin’, troopin’ to the sea:‘Ere’s September come again — the six-year men are free.O leave the dead be’ind us, for they cannot come awayTo where the ship’s a-coalin’ up that takes us ‘ome to-day. …

A Tree Song

Of all the trees that grow so fair,  Old England to adorn,Greater are none beneath the Sun,  Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs,  (All of a Midsummer morn!)Surely we sing no little thing, …

A Translation

Horace, BK. V., Ode 3“Regulus”— A Diversity of Creatures There are whose study is of smells,  And to attentive schools rehearseHow something mixed with something else  Makes something worse. Some cultivate in broths impure  The clients of our body—these,Increasing without…

The Trade

They bear, in place of classic names,  Letters and numbers on their skin.They play their grisly blindfold games  In little boxes made of tin.  Sometimes they stalk the Zeppelin,Sometimes they learn where mines are laid,  Or where the Baltic ice…

The Tour

Thirteen as twelve my Murray always took—  He was a publisher. The new PoliceHave neater ways of bringing men to book,  So Juan found himself before J.P.’sAccused of storming through that placed nook  At practically any pace you please.The Dogberry,…

Tomlinson

Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost at his house in Berkeley Square,And a Spirit came to his bedside and gripped him by the hair—A Spirit gripped him by the hair and carried him far away,Till he heard as the roar…

To Wolcott Balestier

Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled —Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled —Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world. They are purged of pride because…

To the Unknown Goddess

Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar? Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?Shall I…