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

The Only Son

SHE dropped the bar, she shot the bolt, she fed the fire anew,

For she heard a whimper under the sill and a great grey paw came through.

The fresh flame comforted the hut and shone on the roofbeam,

And the Only Son lay down again and dreamed that he dreamed a dream.

The last ash fell from the withered log with the click of a falling spark,

And the Only Son woke up again, and called across the dark:—

“Now was I born of womankind and laid in a mother’s breast?

For I have dreamed of a shaggy hide whereon I went to rest.

And was I born of womankind and laid on a father’s arm?

For I have dreamed of clashing teeth that guarded me from harm.

And was I born an Only Son and did I play alone?

For I have dreamed of comrades twain that bit me to the bone.

And did I break the barley-cake and steep it in the tyre?

For I have dreamed of a youngling kid new-riven from the byre.

For I have dreamed of a midnight sky and a midnight call to blood

And red-mouthed shadows racing by, that thrust me from my food.

’Tis an hour yet and an hour yet to the rising of the moon,

But I can see the black roof-tree as plain as it were noon.

’Tis a league and a league to the Lena Falls where the trooping blackbuck go;

But I can hear the little fawn that bleats behind the doe.

’Tis a league and a league to the Lena Falls where the crop and the upland meet,

But I can smell the wet dawn-wind that wakes the sprouting wheat.

Unbar the door, I may not bide, but I must out and see

If those are wolves that wait outside or my own kin to me!”

*****

She loosed the bar, she slid the bolt, she opened the door anon,

And a grey bitch-wolf came out of the dark and fawned on the Only Son!