Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated)

by Rudyard Kipling

  I cannot say the things I feel,

  And so I sing my evenin’ song:

  For to admire an’ for to see,

  For to be’old this world so wide —

  It never done no good to me,

  But I can’t drop it if I tried!

  The Four Angels

  “With the Night Mail” — Actions and Reactions

  As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree

  The Angel of the Earth came down, and offered Earth in fee;

  But Adam did not need it,

  Nor the plough he would not speed it,

  Singing: — ”Earth and Water, Air and Fire,

  What more can mortal man desire?”

  (The Apple Tree’s in bud)

  As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree

  The Angel of the Waters offered all the Seas in fee;

  But Adam would not take ‘em,

  Nor the ships he wouldn’t make ‘em,

  Singing: — ”Water, Earth and Air and Fire,

  What more can mortal man desire? “

  (The Apple Tree’s in leaf.)

  As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree

  The Angel of the Air he offered all the Air in fee;

  But Adam did not crave it,

  Nor the flight he wouldn’t brave it,

  Singing: — ”Air and Water, Earth and Fire,

  What more can mortal man desire?”

  (The Apple Tree’s in bloom.)

  As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree

  The Angel of the Fire rose up and not a word said he;

  But he wished a flame and made it,

  And in Adam’s heart he laid it,

  Singing: — ”Fire, Fire, burning Fire!

  Stand up, and reach your heart’s desire!”

  (The Apple Blossom’s set.)

  As Adam was a-working outside of Eden-Wall,

  He used the Earth, he used the Seas, he used the Air and all;

  Till out of black disaster

  He arose to be a master

  Of Earth and Water, Air and Fire,

  But never reached his heart’s desire!

  (The Apple Tree’s cut down!)

  Four-Feet

  “THE WOMAN IN HIS LIFE”

  I have done mostly what most men do,

  And pushed it out of my mind;

  But I can’t forget, if I wanted to,

  Four-Feet trotting behind.

  Day after day, the whole day through —

  Wherever my road inclined —

  Four-feet said, “I am coming with you!”

  And trotted along behind.

  Now I must go by some other round, —

  Which I shall never find —

  Somewhere that does not carry the sound

  Of Four-Feet trotting behind.

  The Four Points

  Thomas Tusser

  — The Muse Among the Motors (1900-1930)

  Ere stopping or turning, to put foorth a hande

  Is a charm that thy daies may be long in the land.

  Though seventy-times-seven thee Fortune befriend,

  O’ertaking at corners is Death in the end.

  Sith main-roads for side-roads care nothing, have care

  Both to slow and to blow when thou enterest there.

  Drink as thou canst hold it, but after is best;

  For Drink with men’s Driving makes Crowners to Quest.

  Fox-Hunting

  1933

  THE FOX MEDITATES

  When Samson set my brush afire

  To spoil the Timnites barley,

  I made my point for Leicestershire

  And left Philistia early.

  Through Gath and Rankesborough Gorse I fled,

  And took the Coplow Road, sir!

  And was a Gentleman in Red

  When all the Quorn wore woad, sir!

  When Rome lay massed on Hadrian’s Wall,

  And nothing much was doing,

  Her bored Centurions heard my call

  O’ nights when I went wooing.

  They raised a pack-they ran it well

  (For I was there to run ‘em)

  From Aesica to Carter Fell,

  And down North Tyne to Hunnum.

  When William, landed hot for blood,

  And Harold’s hosts were smitten,

  I lay at earth in Battle Wood

  While Domesday Book was written.

  Whatever harm he did to man,

  I owe him pure affection;

  For in his righteous reign began

  The first of Game Protection.

  When Charles, my namesake, lost his mask,

  And Oliver dropped his’n,

  I found those Northern Squires a task,

  To keep ‘em out of prison.

  In boots as big as milking-pails,

  With holsters on the pommel,

  They chevied me across the Dales

  Instead of fighting Cromwell.

  When thrifty Walpole took the helm,

  And hedging came in fashion,

  The March of Progress gave my realm

  Enclosure and Plantation.

  ‘Twas then, to soothe their discontent,

  I showed each pounded Master,

  However fast the Commons went,

  I went a little faster!

  When Pigg and Jorrocks held the stage,

  And Steam had linked the Shires,

  I broke the staid Victorian age

  To posts, and rails, and wires.

  Then fifty mile was none too far

  To go by train to cover,

  Till some dam’ sutler pupped a car,

  And decent sport was over!

  When men grew shy of hunting stag,

  For fear the Law might try ‘em,

  The Car put up an average bag

  Of twenty dead per diem.

  Then every road was made a rink

  For Coroners to sit on;

  And so began, in skid and stink,

  The real blood-sport of Britain!

  France

  1913

  Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all

  By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul,

  Furious in luxury, merciless in toil,

  Terrible with strength that draws from her tireless soil;

  Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of man’s mind,

  First to follow Truth and last to leave old Truths behind-

  France beloved of every soul that loves its fellow-kind!

  Ere our birth (rememberest thou?) side by side we lay

  Fretting in the womb of Rome to begin our fray.

  Ere men knew our tongues apart, our one task was known-

  Each to mould the other’s fate as he wrought his own.

  To this end we stirred mankind till all Earth was ours,

  Till our world-end strifes begat wayside Thrones and Powers-

  Puppets that we made or broke to bar the other’s path-

  Necessary, outpost-folk, hirelings of our wrath.

  To this end we stormed the seas, tack for tack, and burst

  Through the doorways of new worlds, doubtful which was first,

  Hand on hilt (rememberest thou?) ready for the blow-

  Sure, whatever else we met, we should meet our foe.

  Spurred or balked at every stride by the other’s strength,

  So we rode the ages down and every ocean’s length!

  Where did you refrain from us or we refrain from you?

  Ask the wave that has not watched war between us two?

  Others held us for a while, but with weaker charms,

  These we quitted at the call for each other’s arms.

  Eager toward the known delight, equally we strove-

  Each the other’s mystery, terror, need, and love.

  To each other’s open court with our proofs we came.

  Where could we find honour else, or men to test
our claim!

  From each other’s throat we wrenched-valour’s last reward -

  That extorted word of praise gasped ‘twixt lunge and guard,

  In each other’s cup we poured mingled blood and tears,

  Brutal joys, unmeasured hopes, intolerable fears-

  All that soiled or salted life for a thousand years.

  Proved beyond the need of proof, matched in every clime,

  O Companion, we have lived greatly through all time!

  Yoked in knowledge and remorse, now we come to rest,

  Laughing at old villainies that Time has turned to jest;

  Pardoning old necessities no pardon can efface-

  That undying sin we shared in Rouen market-place.

  Now we watch the new years shape, wondering if they hold

  Fiercer lightnings in their heart than we launched of old.

  Now we hear new voices rise, question, boast or gird,

  As we raged (rememberest thou?) when our crowds were stirred.

  Now we count new keels afloat, and new hosts on land,

  Massed like ours (rememberest thou?) when our strokes were planned.

  We were schooled for dear life’s sake, to know each other’s blade.

  What can Blood and Iron make more than we have made?

  We have learned by keenest use to know each other’s mind,

  What shall Blood and Iron loose that we cannot bind?

  We who swept each other’s coast, sacked each other’s home,

  Since the sword of Brennus clashed on the scales at Rome,

  Listen, count and close again, wheeling girth to girth,

  In the linked and steadfast guard set for peace on earth!

  Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all

  By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul;

  Furious in luxury, merciless in toil,

  Terrible with strength renewed from a tireless soil;

  Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of man’s mind,

  First to face the Truth and last to leave old Truths behind-

  France, beloved of every soul that loves or serves its kind!

  Frankie’s Trade

  “Simple Simon” — Rewards and Fairies

  Old Horn to All Atlantic said:

  (A-hay O! To me O!)

  “Now where did Frankie learn his trade?

  For he ran me down with a three-reef mains’I.”

  (All round the Horn!)

  Atlantic answered: — ”Not from me!

  You’d better ask the cold North Sea,

  For he ran me down under all plain canvas.”

  (All round the Horn!)

  The North Sea answered: — “He’s my man,

  For he came to me when he began —

  Frankie Drake in an open coaster.

  (All round the Sands!)

  “I caught him young and I used him sore,

  So you never shall startle Frankie more,

  Without capsizing Earth and her waters.

  (All round the Sands!)

  “I did not favour him at all.

  I made him pull and I made him haul —

  And stand his trick with the common sailors.

  (All round the Sands!)

  “I froze him stiff and I fogged him blind,

  And kicked him home with his road to find

  By what he could see in a three-day snow-storm.

  (All round the Sands!)

  “I learned him his trade o’ winter nights,

  ‘Twixt Mardyk Fort and Dunkirk lights,

  On a five-knot tide with the forts a-firing.

  (All round the Sands!)

  “Before his beard began to shoot,

  I showed him the length of the Spaniard’s foot —

  And I reckon he clapped the boot on it later.

  (All round the Sands!)

  “If there’s a risk which you can make,

  That’s worse than he was used to take

  Nigh every week in the way of his business;

  (All round the Sands!)

  “If there’s a trick that you can try,

  Which he hasn’t met in time gone by,

  Not once or twice, but ten times over;

  (All round the Sands!)

  “If you can teach him aught that’s new,

  (A-hay O! To me O!)

  I’ll give you Bruges and Niewport too,

  And the ten tall churches that stand between

  Storm along, my gallant Captains!

  (All round the Horn!)

  The French Wars

  Napoleonic

  The boats of Newhaven and Folkestone and Dover

  To Dieppe and Boulogne and to Calais cross over;

  And in each of those runs there is not a square yard

  Where the English and French haven’t fought and fought hard!

  If the ships that were sunk could be floated once more,

  They’d stretch like a raft from the shore to the shore,

  And we’d see, as we crossed, every pattern and plan

  Of ship that was built since sea-fighting began.

  There’d be biremes and brigantines, cutters and sloops,

  Cogs, carracks and galleons with gay gilded poops —

  Hoys, caravels, ketches, corvettes and the rest,

  As thick as regattas, from Ramsgate to Brest.

  But the galleys of Caesar, the squadrons of Sluys,

  And Nelson’s crack frigates are hid from our eyes,

  Where the high Seventy-fours of Napoleon’s days

  Lie down with Deal luggers and French chasse-marees.

  They’ll answer no signal — they rest on the ooze,

  With their honey-combed guns and their skeleton crews —

  And racing above them, through sunshine or gale,

  The Cross-Channel packets come in with the Mail.

  Then the poor sea-sick passengers, English and French,

  Must open their trunks on the Custom-house bench,

  While the officers rummage for smuggled cigars

  And nobody thinks of our blood-thirsty wars!

  The Friends

  (From the “Brazilian Verses”)

  1927

  I HAD some friends-but I dreamed that they were dead-

  Who used to dance with lanterns round a little boy in bed;

  Green and white lanterns that waved to and fro:

  But I haven’t seen a Firefly since ever so long ago!

  I had some friends-their crowns were in the sky-

  Who used to nod and whisper when a little boy went by,

  As the nuts began to tumble and the breeze began to blow:

  And I haven’t seen a Cocoa-palm since ever so long ago!

  I had a friend-he came up from Cape Horn,

  With a Coal-sack on his shoulder when a little boy was born.

  He heard me learn to talk, and he helped me thrive and grow:

  But I haven’t seen the Southern Cross since ever so long ago!

  I had a boat-I out and let her drive,

  Till I found my dream was foolish, for my friends were all alive.

  The Cocoa-palms were real, and the Southern Cross was true:

  And the Fireflies were dancing-so I danced too!

  Fuzzy-Wuzzy

  (Soudan Expeditionary Force)

  We’ve fought with many men acrost the seas,

  An’ some of ‘em was brave an’ some was not:

  The Paythan an’ the Zulu an’ Burmese;

  But the Fuzzy was the finest o’ the lot.

  We never got a ha’porth’s change of ‘im:

  ‘E squatted in the scrub an’ ‘ocked our ‘orses,

  ‘E cut our sentries up at Suakim,

  An’ ‘e played the cat an’ banjo with our forces.

  So ‘ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ‘ome in the Soudan;

  You’re a pore benighted ‘eathen but a first-class fightin’ man;

  We gives you yo
ur certificate, an’ if you want it signed

  We’ll come an’ ‘ave a romp with you whenever you’re inclined.

  We took our chanst among the Khyber ‘ills,

  The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,

  The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,

  An’ a Zulu impi dished us up in style:

  But all we ever got from such as they

  Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;

  We ‘eld our bloomin’ own, the papers say,

  But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us ‘oller.

  Then ‘ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ the missis and the kid;

  Our orders was to break you, an’ of course we went an’ did.

  We sloshed you with Martinis, an’ it wasn’t ‘ardly fair;

  But for all the odds agin’ you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.

  ‘E ‘asn’t got no papers of ‘is own,

  ‘E ‘asn’t got no medals nor rewards,

  So we must certify the skill ‘e’s shown

  In usin’ of ‘is long two-’anded swords:

  When ‘e’s ‘oppin’ in an’ out among the bush

  With ‘is coffin-’eaded shield an’ shovel-spear,

  An ‘appy day with Fuzzy on the rush

  Will last an ‘ealthy Tommy for a year.

  So ‘ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ your friends which are no more,

  If we ‘adn’t lost some messmates we would ‘elp you to deplore.

  But give an’ take’s the gospel, an’ we’ll call the bargain fair,

  For if you ‘ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!

  ‘E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,

  An’, before we know, ‘e’s ‘ackin’ at our ‘ead;

  ‘E’s all ‘ot sand an’ ginger when alive,

  An’ ‘e’s generally shammin’ when ‘e’s dead.

  ‘E’s a daisy, ‘e’s a ducky, ‘e’s a lamb!

  ‘E’s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,