Now o’er a careless knee he flings the painted page abroad –
Such bloom hath never eye beheld this side of Eden Sword;
Such fruit Pomona marks her own, yea, Liber oversees,
That we may reach (one dollar each) the Lost Hesperides!
Serene, assenting, unabashed, he writes our orders down: –
Blue Asphodel on all our paths – a few true bays for crown –
Uncankered bud, immoral flower, and leaves that never fall –
Apples of Gold, of Youth, of Health – and – thank you, Pan, that’s all….
He’s off along the drifted pent to catch the Windsor train,
And swindle every citizen from Keene to Lake Champlain.
But where his goat’s-hoof cut the crust – beloved, look below –
He’s left us (I’ll forgive him all) the may-flower ‘neath her snow!
Parade-Song of the Camp-Animals
“Her Majesty’s Servants” — The Jungle Book
Elephants of the Gun-Teams
We lent to Alexander the strength of Hercules,
The wisdom of our foreheads, the cunning of our knees.
We bowed our necks to service — they ne’er were loosed again, —
Make way there, way for the ten-foot teams
Of the Forty-Pounder train!
Gun-Bullocks
Those heroes in their harnesses avoid a cannon-ball,
And what they know of powder upsets them one and all;
Then we come into action and tug the guns again, —
Make way there, way for the twenty yoke
Of the Forty-Pounder train!
Cavalry Horses
By the brand on my withers, the finest of tunes
Is played by the Lancers, Hussars, and Dragoons,
And it’s sweeter than “Stables” or “Water” to me,
The Cavalry Canter of “Bonnie Dundee!”
Then feed us and break us and handle and groom,
And give us good riders and plenty of room,
And launch us in column of squadron and see
The Way of the War-horse to “Bonnie Dundee!”
Screw-Gun Mules
As me and my companions were scrambling up a hill,
The path was lost in rolling stones, but we went forward still;
For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, an turn up everywhere
And it’s our delight on a mountain height, with a leg or two to spare!
Good luck to every sergeant, then, that lets us pick our road:
Bad luck to all the driver-men that cannot pack a load!
For we can wriggle and climb, my lads, and turn up everywhere,
And it’s our delight on a mountain height, with a leg or two to spare!
Commissariat Camels
We haven’t a camelty tune of our own
To help us trollop along,
But every neck is a hair-trombone
(Rtt-ta-ta-ta! is a hair-trombone! )
And this is our marching-song:
Can’t! Don’t! Shan’t! Won’t!
Pass it along the line!
Somebody’s pack has slid from his back,
‘Wish it were only mine!
Somebody’s load has tipped off in the road —
Cheer for a halt and a row!
Urrr! Yarrh! Grr! Arrh!
Somebody’s catching it now!
All The Beasts Together
Children of the Camp are we,
Serving each in his degree;
Children of the yoke and goad,
Pack and harness, pad and load.
See our line across the plain,
Like a heel-rope bent again,
Reaching, writhing, rolling far,
Sweeping all away to war!
While the men that walk beside,
Dusty, silent, heavy-eyed,
Cannot tell why we or they
March and suffer day by day.
Children. of the Camp are we,
Serving each in his degree;
Children of the yoke and goad,
Pack and harness, pad and load!
The Parting of the Column
“…On the –th instant a mixed detachment
of Colonials left – for Cape Town, there to
rejoin their respective homeward-bound con-
tingents, after fifteen months’ service in the
field. They were escorted to the station by the
regular troops in the garrison and the bulk of
Colonel –’s column, which has just come in to
refit, preparatory for further operations. The
leave-taking was of the most cordial character,
the men cheering each other continuously.”
ANY NEWSPAPER, DURING THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR.
We’ve rode and fought and ate and drunk as rations come to hand,
Together for a year and more around this stinkin’ land:
Now you are goin’ home again, but we must see it through.
We needn’t tell we liked you well. Good-by – good luck to you!
You ‘ad no special call to come, and so you doubled out,
And learned us how to camp and cook an’ steal a horse and scout.
What ever game we fancied most, you joyful played it too,
And rather better of the whole. Good-by – good luck to you!
There isn’t much we ‘aven’t shared, since Kruger cut and run,
The same old work, the same old scoff, the same old dust and sun;
The same old chance that laid us out, or winked an’ let us through;
The same old Life, the same old Death. Good-by – good luck to you!
Our blood ‘as truly mixed with yours – all down the Red Cross train.
We’ve bit the same thermometer in Bloeming-typhoidtein,
We’ve ‘ad the same old temp’rature – the same relapses too,
The same old saw-backed fever-chart. Good-by – good luck to you!
But ‘twasn’t merely this an’ that (which all the world may know),
‘Twas how you talked an’ looked at things which made us like you so.
All independent, queer an’ odd, but most amazin’ new.
The same old saw-backed fever-chart. Good-by – good luck to you!
Think o’ the stories round the fire, the tales along the trek –
O’ Calgary an’ Wellin’ton, an’ Sydney and Quebec;
Of mine an’ farm, an’ ranch an’ run, an’ moose an’ caribou,
An’ parrots peckin’ lambs to death! Good-by – good luck to you!
We’ve seen your ‘ome by world o’ mouth, we’ve watched your rivers shine,
We’ve ‘eard your bloomin’ forests blow of eucalyp’ and pine;
Your young, gay countries north and south, we feel we own ‘em too,
For they was made by rank an’ file. Good-by – good luck to you!
We’ll never read the papers now without inquirin’ first
For word from all those friendly drops where you were born an’ nursed.
Why, Dawson, Galle, an’ Montreal – Port Darwin – Timaru,
They’re only just across the road! Good-by – good luck to you!
Good-by! – So-long! Don’t lose yourselves – nor us, nor all kind friends,
But tell the girls your side the drift – we’re comin’ – when it ends!
Good-by, you bloomin’ Atlasses! You’ve taught us somethin’ new:
The world’s no bigger than a kraal. Good-by – good luck to you!
The Peace Of Dives
1903
The Word came down to Dives in Torment where he lay:
“Our World is full of wickedness, My Children maim and slay,
“And the Saint and Seer and Prophet
“Can make no better of it
“Than to sanctify and prophesy and pray.
“Rise up, rise up, thou Dives, and take again thy gold,
&nbs
p; “And thy women and thy housen as they were to thee of old.
“It may be grace hath found thee
“In the furnace where We bound thee,
“And that thou shalt bring the peace My Son foretold.”
Then merrily rose Dives and leaped from out his fire,
And walked abroad with diligence to do the Lord’s desire;
And anon the battles ceased,
And the captives were released,
And Earth had rest from Goshen to Gadire.
The Word came down to Satan that raged and roared alone,
‘Mid rhe shouring of the peoples by the cannon overthrown
(But the Prophets, Saints, and Seers
Set each other by the ears,
For each would claim the marvel as his own):
“Rise up, rise up, thou Satan, upon the Earth to go,
“And prove the Peace of Dives if it be good or no:
“For all that he hath planned
“We deliver to thy hand,
“As thy skill shall serve, to break it or bring low.”
Then mightily rose Satan, and about the Earth he hied,
And breathed on Kings in idleness and Princes drunk with pride.
But for all the wrong he breathed
There was never sword unsheathed,
And the fires he lighted flickered out and died.
Then terribly ‘rose Satan, and darkened Earth afar,
Till he came on cunning Dives where the money-changers are;
And he saw men pledge their gear
For the bold that buys the spear,
And the helmet and the habergeon of war.
Yea, to Dives came the Persian and the Syrian and the Mede —
And their hearts were nothing altered, nor their cunning nor their greed —
And they pledged their flocks and farms
For the King-compelling arms,
And Dives lent according to their need.
Then Satan said to Dives: — “Return again with me,
“Who hast broken His Commandment in the day He set thee free,
“Who grindest for thy greed
“Man’s belly-pinch and need,
“And the blood of Man to filthy usury!”
Then softly answered Dives where the money-changers sit: —
“My Refuge is Our Master, O My Master in the Pit.
“But behold all Earth is laid
“In the Peace which I have made,
“And behold I wait on thee to trouble it!”
Then angrily turned Satan, and about the Seas he fled,
To shake the new-sown peoples with insult, doubt, and dread;
But, for all the sleight he used,
There was never squadron loosed,
And the brands he flung flew dying and fell dead.
But to Dives came Atlantis and the Captains of the West —
And their hates were nothing weakened nor their angers unrest —
And they pawned their utmost trade
For the dry, decreeing blade;
And Dives lent and took of them their best.
Then Satan said to Dives: — “Declare thou by The Name,
“The secret of thy subtlety that turneth mine to shame.
“It is knowvn through all the Hells
“How my peoples mocked my spells,
“And my faithless Kings denied me ere I came.”
Then answvered cunning Dives: “Do not gold and hate abide
“At the heart of every Magic, yea, and senseless fear beside?
“With gold and fear and hate
“I have harnessed state to state,
“And by hate and fear and gold their hates are tied.
“For hate men seek a weapon, for fear they seek a shield —
“Keener blades and broader targes than their frantic neighbours wield —
“For gold I arm their hands,
“And for gold I buy their lands,
“And for gold I sell their enemies the yield.
“Their nearest foes may purchase, or their furthest friends may lease,
“One by one from Ancient Accad to the Islands of the Seas.
“And their covenants they make
“For the naked iron’s sake,
“But I — I trap them armoured into peace.
“The flocks that Egypt pledged me to Assyria I drave,
“And Pharaoh hath the increase of the herds that Sargon gave.
“Not for Ashdod overthrown
“Will the Kings destroy their own,
“Or their peoples wake the strife they feign to brave.
“Is not Carchemish like Calno? For the steeds of their desire
“They have sold me seven harvests that I sell to Crowning Tyre;
“And the Tyrian sweeps the plains
“With a thousand hired wains,
“And the Cities keep the peace and — share the hire.
“Hast thou seen the pride of Moab? For the swords about his path,
“His bond is to Philistia, in half of all he hath.
“And he dare not draw the sword
“Till Gaza give the word,
“And he show release from Askalon and Gath.
“Wilt thou call again thy peoples, wilt thou craze anew thy Kings?
“Lo! my lightnings pass before thee, and their whistling servant brings,
“Ere the drowsy street hath stirred,
“Every masked and midnight word,
“And the nations break their fast upon these things.
“So I make a jest of Wonder, and a mock of Time and Space,
“The roofless Seas an hostel, and the Earth a market-place,
“Where the anxious traders know
“Each is surety for his foe,
“And none may thrive without his fellows’ grace.
“Now this is all my subtlety and this is all my Wit,
“God give thee good enlightenment. My Master in the Pit.
“But behold all Earth is laid
“In the Peace which I have made,
“And behold I wait on thee to trouble it!”
The Penalty
“The Tender Achilles”
From “Limits and Renewals” (1932)
Once in life I watched a Star;
But I whistled, “Let her go!
There are others, fairer far,
Which my favouring skies shall show
Here I lied, and herein I
Stood to pay the penalty.
Marvellous the Planets shone
As I ranged from coast to coast —
But beyond comparison
Rode the Star that I had lost.
I had lied, and only I
Did not guess the penalty! . . .
When my Heavens were turned to blood,
When the dark had filled my day,
Furthest, but most faithful, stood
That lone Star I cast away.
I had loved myself, and I
Have not lived and dare not die!
Pharaoh and the Sergeant
1897
“. . . Consider that the meritorious services of the Sergeant Instructors
attached to the Egyptian Army haue been inadequately acknowledged. . . .
To the excellence of their work is mainly due the great improvement that has
taken place in the soldiers of H.H. the Khedive.”
Extact from Letter.
Said England unto Pharaoh, “I must make a man of you,
That will stand upon his feet and play the game;
That will Maxim his oppressor as a Christian ought to do,”
And she sent old Pharaoh Sergeant Whatisname.
It was not a Duke nor Earl, nor yet a Viscount —
It was not a big brass General that came;
But a man in khaki kit who could handle men a bit,
With his bedding labelled Sergeant Whatisname.
Said England unto Pharaoh, “Though
at present singing small,
You shall hum a proper tune before it ends,”
And she introduced old Pharaoh to the Sergeant once for all,
And left ‘em in the desert making friends.
It was not a Crystal Palace nor Cathedral;
It was not a public-house of common fame;
But a piece of red-hot sand, with a palm on either hand,
And a little hut for Sergeant Whatisname.
Said England unto Pharaoh, “You ‘ve had miracles before,
When Aaron struck your rivers into blood;
But if you watch the Sergeant he can show vou something more. ‘
He’s a charm for making riflemen from mud.”
It was neither Hindustani, French, nor Coptics;
It was odds and ends and leavings of the same,
Translated by a stick (which is really half the trick),
And Pharaoh harked to Sergeant Whatisname.
(There were y ears that no one talked of; there were times of horrid doubt —
There was faith and hope and whacking and despair —
While the Sergeant gave the Cautions and he combed old Pharaoh out,
And England didn’t seem to know nor care.
That is England’s awful way o’ doing business —
She would serve her God (or Gordon) just the same —
For she thinks her Empire still is the Strand and Hol born Hill,
And she didn’t think of Sergeant Whatisname.)
Said England to the Sergeant, “You can let my people go!”
(England used ‘em cheap and nasty from the start),
And they entered ‘em in battle on a most astonished foe —
But the Sergeant he had hardened Pharaoh’s heart
Which was broke, along of all the plagues of Egypt,
Three thousand years before the Sergeant came
And he mended it again in a little more than ten,
Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated) Page 795