Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.
The Plea of the Simla Dancers
“W
Was there no room save only in Benmore
For docket, duftar, and for office-drudge,
That you usurp our smoothest dancing floor?
Must babus do their work on polished teak?
Are ballrooms fittest for the ink you spill?
Was there no other cheaper house to seek?
You might have left them all at Strawberry Hill.
Dainty our shining feet, our voices low;
And we revolved to divers melodies,
And we were happy but a year ago.
To-night, the moon that watched our lightsome wiles—
That beamed upon us through the deodars—
Is wan with gazing on official files,
And desecrating desks disgust the stars.
Nay! by the witchery of flying feet—
Nay! by the glamour of foredone delights—
By all things merry, musical, and meet—
By wine that sparkled, and by sparkling eyes—
By wailing waltz—by reckless gallop’s strain—
By dim verandahs and by soft replies.
Give us our ravished ballroom back again!
The ghosts of waltzes shall perplex your brain,
And murmurs of past merriment pursue
Your ’wildered clerks that they indite in vain;
And when you count your poor Provincial millions,
The only figures that, your pen shall frame
Shall be the figures of dear, dear cotillions
Danced out in tumult long before you came.
“Dream Faces” shall your heavy heads bemuse.
Because your hand, unheeding, desecrates
Our temple fit for higher, worthier use.
And all the long verandahs, eloquent
With echoes of a score of Simla years,
Shall plague you with unbidden sentiment—
Babbling of kisses, laughter, love, and tears.
So shall you toil, and shall accomplish nought.
And ever in your ears a phantom Band
Shall blare away the staid official thought.
Wherefore—and ere this awful curse be spoken,
Cast out your swarthy sacrilegious train,
And give—ere dancing cease and hearts be broken—
Give us our ravished ballroom back again!