Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated) (1031 page)

Plain speech with plain folk,
  And plain words for false things,
Plain faith in plain dealing
  ‘Twixt neighbours or kings,
He used and he followed,
  However it sped.  .  .  .
Oh,  our  world  is  none  more  honest
  Now Great-Heart is dead!

The heat of his spirit
  Struck warm through all lands;
For he loved such as showed
  ‘Emselves men of their hands;
In love, as in hate,
  Paying home to the last.  .  .  .
But our world is none the kinder
  Now Great-Heart hath passed!

Hard-schooled by long power,
  Yet most humble of mind
Where aught that he was
  Might advantage mankind.
Leal servant, loved master,
  Rare comrade, sure guide.  .  .  .
Oh, our world is none the safer
  Now Great-Heart hath died!

Let those who would handle
  Make sure they can wield
His far-reaching sword
  And his close-guarding shield:
For those who must journey
  Henceforward alone
Have need of stout convoy
  Now Great-Heart is gone.

The Greek National Anthem

1918
We knew thee of old,
  Oh divinely restored,
By the light of thine eyes
  And the light of thy Sword.

From the graves of our slain
  Shall thy valour prevail
As we greet thee again —
  Hail, Liberty! Hail!

Long time didst thou dwell
  Mid the peoples that mourn,
Awaiting some voice
  That should bid thee return.

Ah, slow broke that day
  And no man dared call,
For the shadow of tyranny
  Lay over all:

And we saw thee sad-eyed,
  The tears on thy cheeks
While thy raiment was dyed
  In the blood of the Greeks.

Yet, behold now thy sons
  With impetuous breath
Go forth to the fight
  Seeking Freedom or Death.

From the graves of our slain
  Shall thy valour prevail
As we greet thee again —
  Hail, Liberty! Hail!

Gunga Din

You may talk o’ gin and beer
When you’re quartered safe out ‘ere,
An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im that’s got it.
Now in Injia’s sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin’ of ‘Er Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
      He was “Din! Din! Din!
  You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din!
      Hi! Slippy
hitherao
!
      Water, get it! 
Panee lao
!                   [Bring water swiftly.]
  You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”

The uniform ‘e wore
Was nothin’ much before,
An’ rather less than ‘arf o’ that be’ind,
For a piece o’ twisty rag
An’ a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment ‘e could find.
When the sweatin’ troop-train lay
In a sidin’ through the day,
Where the ‘eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl,
We shouted “Harry By!”           [Mr. Atkins’s equivalent for “O brother.”]
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped ‘im ‘cause ‘e couldn’t serve us all.
      It was “Din! Din! Din!
  You ‘eathen, where the mischief ‘ave you been?
      You put some
juldee
in it                               [Be quick.]
      Or I’ll
marrow
you this minute                           [Hit you.]
  If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”

‘E would dot an’ carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An’ ‘e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your bloomin’ nut,
‘E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear.
With ‘is
mussick
on ‘is back,                               [Water-skin.]
‘E would skip with our attack,
An’ watch us till the bugles made “Retire”,
An’ for all ‘is dirty ‘ide
‘E was white, clear white, inside
When ‘e went to tend the wounded under fire!
      It was “Din! Din! Din!”
  With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green.
      When the cartridges ran out,
      You could hear the front-ranks shout,
  “Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!”

I shan’t forgit the night
When I dropped be’ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ‘a’ been.
I was chokin’ mad with thirst,
An’ the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.
‘E lifted up my ‘ead,
An’ he plugged me where I bled,
An’ ‘e guv me ‘arf-a-pint o’ water-green:
It was crawlin’ and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk,
I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
      It was “Din! Din! Din!
  ‘Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ‘is spleen;
      ‘E’s chawin’ up the ground,
      An’ ‘e’s kickin’ all around:
  For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!”

‘E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.
‘E put me safe inside,
An’ just before ‘e died,
“I ‘ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet ‘im later on
At the place where ‘e is gone —
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen.
‘E’ll be squattin’ on the coals
Givin’ drink to poor damned souls,
An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
      Yes, Din! Din! Din!
  You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
      Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
      By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
  You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

Half-Ballade of Waterval

(Non-commissioned Officers in Charge of Prisoners)

When by the labour of my ‘ands I’ve ‘elped to pack a transport tight With prisoners for foreign lands, I ain’t transported with delight. I know it’s only just an’ right, But yet it somehow sickens me, For I ‘ave learned at Waterval The meanin’ of captivity. Be’ind the pegged barb-wire strands, Beneath the tall electric light,
We
used to walk in bare-’ead bands, Explainin’ ‘ow we lost our fight; An’ that is what they’ll do to-night Upon the steamer out at sea, If I ‘ave learned at Waterval The meanin’ of captivity.
They’ll
never know the shame that brands — Black shame no livin’ down makes white — The mockin’ from the sentry-stands, The women’s laugh, the gaoler’s spite.
We
are too bloomin’-much polite, But that is ‘ow I’d ‘ave us be... Since I ‘ave learned at Waterval The meanin’ of captivity. They’ll get those draggin’ days all right, Spent as a foreigner commands, An’ ‘orrors of the locked-up night, With ‘Ell’s own thinkin’ on their ‘ands. I’d give the gold o’ twenty Rands (If it was mine) to set ‘em free, For I ‘ave learned at Waterval The meanin’ of captivity!

Harp Song of the Dane Women

What is a woman that you forsake her,
And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,
To go with the old grey Widow-maker?

She has no house to lay a guest in —
But one chill bed for all to rest in,
That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in.

She has no strong white arms to fold you,
But  the  ten-times-fingering weed  to hold you —
Out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you.

Yet, when the signs of summer thicken,
And the ice breaks, and the birch-buds quicken,
Yearly you turn from our side, and sicken —

Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters.
You steal away to the lapping waters,
And look at your ship in her winter-quarters.

You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables,
The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables —
To pitch her sides and go over her cables.

Then you drive out where the storm-clouds swallow,
And the sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow,
Is all we have left through the months to follow.

Ah, what is Woman that you forsake her,
And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,
To go with the old grey Widow-maker ?

Helen all Alone

“In the Same Boat” — A Diversity of Creatures
There was darkness under Heaven
  For an hour’s space —
Darkness that we knew was given
  Us for special grace.
Sun and moon and stars were hid,
  God had left His Throne,
When Helen came to me, she did,
  Helen all alone!

Side by side (because our fate
  Damned us ere our birth)
We stole out of Limbo Gate
  Looking for the Earth.
Hand in pulling hand amid
  Fear no dreams have known,
Helen ran with me, she did,
  Helen all alone!

When the Horror passing speech
  Hunted us along,
Each laid hold on each, and each
  Found the other strong.
In the teeth of Things forbid
  And Reason overthrown,
Helen stood by me, she did,
  Helen all alone!

When, at last, we heard those Fires
  Dull and die away,
When, at last, our linked desires
  Dragged us up to day;
When, at last, our souls were rid
  Of what that Night had shown,
Helen passed from me, she did,
  Helen all alone!

Let her go and find a mate,
  As I will find a bride,
Knowing naught of Limbo Gate
  Or Who are penned inside.
There is knowledge God forbid
  More than one should own.
So Helen went from me, she did,
  Oh, my soul, be glad she did!
Helen all alone!

Heriot’s Ford

Enlarged from “The Light that Failed”
“What’s that that hirples at my side?”
The foe that you must fight, my lord.
“That rides as fast as I can ride?”
The shadow of your might, my lord.

“Then wheel my horse against the foe!”
He’s down and overpast, my lord.
You war against the sunset-glow,
The judgment follows fast, my lord!

“Oh, who will stay the sun’s descent?”
King Joshua he is dead, my lord.
“I need an hour to repent!”
‘Tis what our sister said, my lord.

“Oh, do not slay me in my sins!”
You’re safe awhile with us, my lord.
“Nay, kill me ere my fear begins!”
We would not serve you thus, my lord.

“Where is the doom that I must face? “
Three little leagues away, my lord.
“Then mend the horses’ laggard pace!”
We need them for next day, my lord.

“Next day — next day! Unloose my cords!”
Our sister needed none, my lord.
You had no mind to face our swords,
And — where can cowards run, my lord?

“You would not kill the soul alive?”
‘Twas thus our sister cried, my lord.
“I dare not die with none to shrive.”
But so our sister died, my lord.

“Then wipe the sweat from brow and cheek.”
It runnels forth afresh, my lord.
“Uphold me — for the flesh is weak.”
You’ve finished with the Flesh, my lord!

The Heritage

Our Fathers in a wondrous age,
  Ere yet the Earth was small,
Ensured to us a heritage,
  And doubted not at all
That we, the children of their heart,
  Which then did beat so high,
In later time should play like part
  For our posterity.

A thousand years they steadfast built,
  To ‘vantage us and ours,
The Walls that were a world’s despair,
  The sea-constraining Towers:
Yet in their midmost pride they knew,
  And unto Kings made known,
Not all from these their strength they drew,
  Their faith from brass or stone.

Youth’s passion, manhood’s fierce intent,
  With age’s judgment wise,
They spent, and counted not they spent,
  At daily sacrifice.
Not lambs alone nor purchased doves
  Or tithe of trader’s gold —
Their lives most dear, their dearer loves,
  They offered up of old.

Refraining e’en from lawful things,
  They bowed the neck to bear
The unadorned yoke that brings
  Stark toil and sternest care.
Wherefore through them is Freedom sure;
  Wherefore through them we stand,
From all but sloth and pride secure,
  In a delightsome land.

Then, fretful, murmur not they gave
  So great a charge to keep,
Nor dream that awestruck Time shall save
  Their labour while we sleep.
Dear-bought and clear, a thousand year,
  Our fathers’ title runs.
Make we likewise their sacrifice,
  Defrauding not our sons.

His Apologies

1932
Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.
But Thou hast forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee...
Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is very comfy with Thee.

Master, behold a Sinner! He hath committed a  wrong.
He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.
Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt, and his self-respect has been bruised.
Master, pardon Thy Sinner, and see he is properly loosed.