Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.

Chapter Headings, I

LOOK, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these

You bid me please?

The Three in One, the One in Three? Not so!

To my own Gods I go.

It may be they shall give me greater ease

Than your cold Christ and tangled Trinities.

When the earth was sick and the skies were grey,

And the woods were rotted with rain,

The Dead Man rode through the autumn day

To visit his love again.

His love she neither saw nor heard,

So heavy was her shame;

And tho’ the babe within her stirred

She knew not that he came.

Cry “Murder” in the market-place, and each

Will turn upon his neighbour anxious eyes

Asking: “Art thou the man?” We hunted Cain

Some centuries ago across the world.

This bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain

To-day.

Go, stalk the red deer o’er the heather,

Ride, follow the fox if you can!

But, for pleasure and profit together,

Allow me the hunting of Man—

The chase of the Human, the search for the Soul

To its ruin—the hunting of Man.

“Stopped in the straight when the race was his own

Look at him cutting it—cur to the bone!”

Ask ere the youngster be rated and chidden

What did he carry and how was he ridden?

Maybe they used him too much at the start.

Maybe Fate’s weight-cloths are breaking his heart.

“And some are sulky, while some will plunge.

(So ho! Steady! Stand still, you!)

Some you must gentle, and some you must lunge.

(There! There! Who wants to kill you?)

Some—there are losses in every trade—

Will break their hearts ere bitted and made,

Will fight like fiends as the rope cuts hard,

And die dumb-mad in the breaking-yard.”

The World hath set its heavy yoke

Upon the old white-bearded folk

Who strive to please the King.

God’s mercy is upon the young,

God’s wisdom in the baby tongue

That fears not anything.

Not though you die to-night, O Sweet, and wail,

A spectre at my door,

Shall mortal Fear make Love immortal fail—

I shall but love you more,

Who, from Death’s House returning, give me still

One moment’s comfort in my matchless ill.

They burnt a corpse upon the sand—

The light shone out afar;

It guided home the plunging dhows

That beat from Zanzibar.

Spirit of Fire, where’er Thy altars rise,

Thou art the Light of Guidance to our eyes!

Ride with an idle whip, ride with an unused heel,

But, once in a way, there will come a day

When the colt must be taught to feel

The lash that falls, and the curb that galls, and the sting of the rowelled steel.

It was not in the open fight

We threw away the sword,

But in the lonely watching

In the darkness by the ford.

The waters lapped, the night-wind blew,

Full-armed the Fear was born and grew,

And we were flying ere we knew

From panic in the night.

In the daytime, when she moved about me,

In the night, when she was sleeping at my side,—

I was wearied, I was wearied of her presence.

Day by day and night by night I grew to hate her—

Would God that she or I had died!

A stone’s throw out on either hand

From that well-ordered road we tread,

And all the world is wild and strange;

Churl and ghoul and Djinn and sprite

Shall bear us company to-night,

For we have reached the Oldest Land

Wherein the powers of Darkness range.

To-night, God knows what thing shall tide,

The Earth is racked and fain—

Expectant, sleepless, open-eyed;

And we, who from the Earth were made,

Thrill with our Mother’s pain.

Pit where the buffalo cooled his hide,

By the hot sun emptied, and blistered and dried;

Log in the plume-grass, hidden and lone;

Bund where the earth-rat’s mounds are strown;

Cave in the bank where the sly stream steals;

Aloe that stabs at the belly and heels,

Jump if you dare on a steed untried—

Safer it is to go wide—go wide!

Hark, from in front where the best men ride;—

“Pull to the off, boys! Wide! Go wide!”

He drank strong waters and his speech was coarse;

He purchased raiment and forbore to pay;

He stuck a trusting junior with a horse,

And won gymkhanas in a doubtful way.

Then, ’twixt a vice and folly, turned aside

To do good deeds and straight to cloak them, lied.