Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated) (1013 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated)
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So he up with his big bull-goad instead,
But — Cain hit first and dropped him dead!

 

The Herd-bulls ran when they smelt the blood,
An’ horned an’ pawed in that Red Mud.
The Calves they bawled, and the Steers they milled,
Because it was the First Man Killed;                -
An’ the whole Herd broke for the Land of Nod,
An’ Cain was left to be judged by God!

 

But, seein’ all he had had to bear,
I never could call the Judgment fair!

 

The Captive

 

 

Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining
He answered his name at the muster and stood to the chaining.
When  the twin  anklets were nipped  on the leg-bars  that held them,
He brotherly greeted the armourers stooping to weld them.
Ere the sad dust of the marshalled feet of the chain-gang swallowed him,
Observing him nobly at ease, I alighted and followed him.
Thus we had speech by the way, but not touching his sorrow —
Rather his red Yesterday and his regal To-morrow,
Wherein he statelily moved to the clink of his chains unregarded,
Nowise abashed but contented to drink of the potion awarded.
Saluting aloofly his Fate, he made haste with his story,
And the words of his mouth were as slaves spreading carpets of glory
Embroidered with names of the Djinns — a miraculous weaving —
But the cool and perspicuous eye overbore unbelieving.
So I submitted myself to the limits of rapture —
Bound by this man we had bound, amid captives his capture —
Till he returned me to earth and the visions departed.
But on him be the Peace and the Blessing; for he was greathearted!

 

Carmen Circulare

 

Q. H. Flaccus
 — The Muse Among the Motors (1900-1930)
    Dellius, that car which, night and day,
      Lightnings and thunders arm and scourge —
    Tumultuous down the Appian Way —
      Be slow to urge.

 

    Though reckless Lydia bid thee fly,
      And Telephus o’ertaking jeer,
    Nay, sit and strongly occupy
      The lower gear. 

 

    They call, the road consenting, “Haste!” —
      Such as delight in dust collected —
    Until arrives (I too have raced! )
      The unexpected.

 

    What ox not doomed to die alone,
      Or inauspicious hound, may bring
    Thee ‘twixt two kisses to the throne
      Of Hades’ King,

 

    I cannot tell; the Furies send
      No warning ere their bolts arrive.
    ‘Tis best to reach our chosen end
      Late  but alive.

 

A Carol

 

“THE TREE OF JUSTICE” — REWARDS AND FAIRIES
Our Lord Who did the Ox command
  To kneel to Judah’s King,
He binds His frost upon the land
  To ripen it for Spring —
To ripen it for Spring, good sirs,
  According to His Word.
Which well must be as ye can see —
  And who shall judge the Lord?

 

When we poor fenmen skate the ice
  Or shiver on the wold,
We hear the cry of a single tree
  That breaks her heart in the cold —
That breaks her heart in the cold, good sirs,
  And rendeth by the board.
Which well must be as ye can see —
  And who shall judge the Lord?

 

Her wood is crazed and little worth
  Excepting as to burn,
That we may warm and make our mirth
  Until the Spring return —
Until the Spring return, good sirs,
  When Christians walk abroad;
When well must be as ye can see —
  And who shall judge the Lord?

 

God bless the master of this house,
  And all who sleep therein!
And guard the fens from pirate folk,
  And keep us all from sin,
To walk in honesty, good sirs,
  Of thought and deed and word!
Which shall befriend our latter end....
  And who shall judge the Lord?

 

Cells

 

I’ve a head like a concertina:  I’ve a tongue like a button-stick,
I’ve a mouth like an old potato, and I’m more than a little sick,
But I’ve had my fun o’ the Corp’ral’s Guard:  I’ve made the cinders fly,
And I’m here in the Clink for a thundering drink and blacking the Corporal’s eye.
    With a second-hand overcoat under my head,
    And a beautiful view of the yard,
  O it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C.B.
    For “drunk and resisting the Guard!”
    Mad drunk and resisting the Guard —
    ‘Strewth, but I socked it them hard!
  So it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C.B.
    For “drunk and resisting the Guard.”

 

I started o’ canteen porter, I finished o’ canteen beer,
But a dose o’ gin that a mate slipped in, it was that that brought me here.
‘Twas that and an extry double Guard that rubbed my nose in the dirt —
But I fell away with the Corp’ral’s stock and the best of the Corp’ral’s shirt.

 

I left my cap in a public-house, my boots in the public road,
And Lord knows where — and I don’t care — my belt and my tunic goed;
They’ll stop my pay, they’ll cut away the stripes I used to wear,
But I left my mark on the Corp’ral’s face, and I think he’ll keep it there!

 

My wife she cries on the barrack-gate, my kid in the barrack-yard,
It ain’t that I mind the Ord’ly room — it’s
that
that cuts so hard.
I’ll take my oath before them both that I will sure abstain,
But as soon as I’m in with a mate and gin, I know I’ll do it again!
    With a second-hand overcoat under my head,
    And a beautiful view of the yard,
  Yes, it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C.B.
    For “drunk and resisting the Guard!”
    Mad drunk and resisting the Guard —
    ‘Strewth, but I socked it them hard!
  So it’s pack-drill for me and a fortnight’s C.B.
    For “drunk and resisting the Guard.”

 

The Centaurs

 

“The United Idolaters”

 

Up came the young Centaur-colts from the plains they were
       fathered in —
   Curious, awkward, afraid.
Burrs on their hocks and their tails, they were branded and gath-
       ered in
  Mobs and run up to the yard to be made.

 

Starting and shying at straws, with sidlings and plungings,
  Buckings and whirlings and bolts;
Greener than grass, but full-ripe for their bridling and lungings,
  Up to the yards and to Chiron they bustled the colts...

 

First the light web and the cavesson; then the linked keys
  To jingle and turn on the tongue. Then, with cocked ears,
The hours of watching and envy, while comrades at ease
  Passaged and backed, making naught of these terrible gears.

 

Next, over-pride and its price at the low-seeming fence
  Too oft and too easily taken — the world-beheld fall!
And none in the yard except Chiron to doubt the immense,
  Irretrievable shame of it all!...

 

Last, the trained squadron, full-charge — the sound of a going
  Through dust and spun clods, and strong kicks, pelted in as
       they went,
And repaid at top-speed; till the order to halt without slowing
  Showed every colt on his haunches — and Chiron content!

 

Certain Maxims Of Hafiz

 

                                I.
If It be pleasant to look on, stalled in the packed
serai,
Does not the Young Man try Its temper and pace ere he buy?
If She be pleasant to look on, what does the Young Man say?
“Lo! She is pleasant to look on, give Her to me to-day!”

 

                                II.
Yea, though a Kafir die, to him is remitted Jehannum
If he borrowed in life from a native at sixty per cent. per anuum.

 

                                III.
Blister we not for
bursati?
So when the heart is vext,
The pain of one maiden’s refusal is drowned in the pain of the next.

 

                                IV.
The temper of chums, the love of your wife, and a new piano’s tune —
Which of the three will you trust at the end of an Indian June?

 

                                 V.
Who are the rulers of Ind — to whom shall we bow the knee?
Make your peace with the women, and men will make you L. G.

 

                                 VI.
Does the woodpecker flit round the young
ferash?
  Does grass clothe a new-built wall?
Is she under thirty, the woman who holds a boy in her thrall?

 

                                 VII.
If She grow suddenly gracious — reflect. Is it all for thee?
The blackbuck is stalked through the bullock, and Man through jealousy.

 

                                 VIII.
Seek not for favours of women. So shall you find it indeed.
Does not the boar break cover just when you’re lighting a weed?

 

          IX.
If He play, being young and unskilful, for shekels of silver and gold,
Take His money, my son, praising Allah. The kid was ordained to be sold.

 

           X.
With a “weed” among men or horses verily this is the best,
That you work him in office or dog-cart lightly — but give him no rest.

 

           XI.
Pleasant the snaffle of Courtship, improving the manners and carriage;
But the colt who is wise will abstain from the terrible thorn-bit of Marriage.

 

           XII.
As the thiftless gold of the
babul,
so is the gold that we spend
On a Derby Sweep, or our neighbour’s wife, or the horse that we buy from a friend.

 

           XIII.
The ways of man with a maid be strange, yet simple and tame
To the ways of a man with a horse, when selling or racing that same.

 

            XIV.
In public Her face turneth to thee, and pleasant Her smile when ye meet.
It is ill. The cold rocks of El-Gidar smile thus on the waves at their feet.
In public Her face is averted; with anger She nameth thy name.
It is well. Was there ever a loser content with the loss of the game?

 

          XV.
If She have spoken a word, remember thy lips are sealed,
And the Brand of the Dog is upon him by whom is the secret revealed.
If She have written a letter, delay not an instant but burn it.
Tear it to pieces, O Fool, and the wind to her mate shall return it!
If there be trouble to Herward, and a lie of the blackest can clear,
Lie, while thy lips can move or a man is alive to hear.

 

          XVI.
My Son, if a maiden deny thee and scufflingly bid thee give o’er,
Yet lip meets with lip at the last word, get out!
  She has been there before.
They are pecked on the ear and the chin and the nose who are lacking in lore.

 

          XVII.
If we fall in the race, though we win, the hoof-slide is scarred on the course.
Though Allah and Earth pardon Sin, remaineth for ever Remorse.

 

          XVIII.
“By all I am misunderstood!” if the Matron shall say, or the Maid: —
“Alas! I do not understand,” my son, be thou nowise afraid.
In vain in the sight of the Bird is the net of the Fowler displayed.

 

      XIX.
My son, if I, Hafiz, thy Father, take hold of thy knees in my pain,
Demanding thy name on stamped paper, one day or one hour — refrain.
Are the links of thy fetters so light that thou cravest another man’s chain?

 

The Changelings

 

R.N.V.R,
“Sea Constables”
From “Debits and Credits” (1919-1926)
Or ever the battered liners sank
  With their passengers to the dark,
I was head of a Walworth Bank,
  And you were a grocer’s clerk.

 

I was a dealer in stocks and shares,
  And you in butters and teas;
And we both abandoned our own affairs
  And took to the dreadful seas.

 

Wet and worry about our ways —
  Panic, onset and flight —
Had us in charge for a thousand days
  And thousand-year-long night.

 

We saw more than the nights could hide —
  More than the waves could keep —
And — certain faces over the side
  Which do not go from our sleep.

 

We were more tired than words can tell
  While the pied craft fled by,
And the swinging mounds of the Western swell
  Hoisted us Heavens-high...

 

Now there is nothing — not even our rank —
  To witness what we have been;
And I am returned to my Walworth Bank,
  And you to your margarine!

 

Chant-Pagan

 

ENGLISH IRREGULAR, DISCHARGED
Me that ‘ave been what I’ve been —
  Me that ‘ave gone where I’ve gone —
Me that ‘ave seen what I’ve seen —
  ‘Ow can I ever take on
With awful old England again,
An’ ‘ouses both sides of the street,
And ‘edges two sides of the lane,
And the parson an’ gentry between,
An’ touchin’ my ‘at when we meet —
  Me that ‘ave been what I’ve been?

 

Me that ‘ave watched ‘arf a world
‘Eave up all shiny with dew,
Kopje on kop to the sun,
An’ as soon as the mist let ‘em through
Our ‘elios winkin’ like fun —
Three sides of a ninety-mile square,
Over valleys as big as a shire —
“Are ye there? Are ye there? Are ye there?”
An’ then the blind drum of our fire . . .
An’ I’m rollin’ ‘is lawns for the Squire,
          Me!

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