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Rudyard

Rudyard Kipling was an English journalist, short-story writer, poet, and novelist. He was born in British India, which inspired much of his work. His notable works include the novels 'The Jungle Book,' 'Kim,' and the poem 'If—.' Kipling was one of the most popular writers in the United Kingdom in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1907, making him the youngest recipient of the award.

December 30, 1865

January 18, 1936

English

Rudyard

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General Joubert

With those that bred, with those that loosed the strife,
He had no part whose hands were clear of gain;
But subtle, strong, and stubborn, gave his life
To a lost cause, and knew the gift was vain.

Later shall rise a people, sane and great,
Forged in strong fires, by equal war made one;
Telling old battles over without hate,
Not least his name shall pass From sire to son.

He may not meet the onsweep of our van
In the doomed city when we close the score;
Yet o'er his grave, his grave that holds a man,
Our deep-tongued guns shall answer his once more!

Rudyard

Gentlmen-Rankers

To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,
To my brethren in their sorrow overseas,
Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed,
And a trooper of the Empress, if you please.
Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six horses,
And faith he went the pace and went it blind,
And the world was more than kin while he held the ready tin,
But to-day the Sergeant's something less than kind.
We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,
Baa! Baa! Baa!
We're little black sheep who've gone astray,
Baa-aa-aa!
Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,
Damned from here to Eternity,
God ha' mercy on such as we,
Baa! Yah! Bah!

Oh, it's sweet to sweat through stables, sweet to empty kitchen slops,
And it's sweet to hear the tales ...

Rudyard

Gertrude's Prayer

That which is marred at birth Time shall not mend,
Nor water out of bitter well make clean;
All evil thing returneth at the end,
Or elseway walketh in our blood unseen.
Whereby the more is sorrow in certaine,
Dayspring mishandled cometh not agen.

To-bruized be that slender, sterting spray
Out of the oake's rind that should betide
A branch of girt and goodliness, straightway
Her spring is turned on herself, and wried
And knotted like some gall or veiney wen.
Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe.

Noontide repayeth never morning-bliss
Sith noon to morn is incomparable;
And, so it be our dawning goth amiss,
None other after-hour serveth well.
Ah! Jesu-Moder, pitie my oe paine
Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe!

Rudyard

Gethsemane

The Garden called Gethsemane
In Picardy it was,
And there the people came to see
The English soldiers pass.
We used to pass, we used to pass
Or halt, as it might be,
And ship our masks in case of gas
Beyond Gethsemane.

The Garden called Gethsemane,
It held a pretty lass,
But all the time she talked to me
I prayed my cup might pass.
The officer sat on the chair,
The men lay on the grass,
And all the time we halted there
I prayed my cup might pass.

It didn't pass, it didn't pass,
It didn't pass from me.
I drank it when we met the gas
Beyond Gethsemane!

Rudyard

Giffen's Debt

Imprimus he was "broke." Thereafter left
His Regiment and, later, took to drink;
Then, having lost the balance of his friends,
"Went Fantee", joined the people of the land,
Turned three parts Mussulman and one Hindu,
And lived among the Gauri villagers,
Who gave him shelter and a wife or twain.
And boasted that a thorough, full-blood sahib
Had come among them. Thus he spent his time,
Deeply indebted to the village shroff
(Who never asked for payment), always drunk,
Unclean, abominable, out-at-heels;
Forgetting that he was an Englishman.

You know they dammed the Gauri with a dam,
And all the good contractors scamped their work
And all the bad material at hand
Was used to dam the Gauri, which was cheap,
And, therefore, proper. Then the Gauri burst,

Rudyard

Gipsy Vans

Unless you come of the gipsy stock
That steals by night and day,
Lock your heart with a double lock
And throw the key away.
Bury it under the blackest stone
Beneath your father's hearth,
And keep your eyes on your lawful own
And your feet to the proper path.
Then you can stand at your door and mock
When the gipsy vans come through...
For it isn't right that the Gorgio stock
Should live as the Romany do.

Unless you come of the gipsy blood
That takes and never spares,
Bide content with your given good
And follow your own affairs.
Plough and harrow and roll your land,
And sow what ought to be sowed;
But never let loose your heart from your hand,
Nor flitter it down the road!
Then you can thrive on your boughten food
As the gipsy van...

Rudyard

Glossary of terms in poetry by Rudyard Kipling

Aa—or - Cahors?
Aggy Chell - get ahead
abby-nay - Not now
arder - And a half
aasvogel - Vulture
babul - Acacia
bairagi - Wandering holy man
band karo - locked up
Bandar - Monkey
bat - talk
Beebee Miriam - the Virgin Mary
biltong - dried meat
Blue Fuse - Extreme range
boorga - Hurricane
bottle-khana - Pantry
Bukhshi's - The Commander in chief.
bul-bul - Nightingale
burra-khana - dinner
Burra Sahib - a big man
Burra Sahib Bahadur - a very big man indeed
bursati - A skin disease of horses
bust - Three days leave
C.B. - Confined to barracks
Chota Bursat - the early rains
Churel - The ghost of a woman who has died in childbirth
C.I.E. - A Companionship of the order of the Indian Empire.
C.S.I. - The order of the Sta...

Rudyard

Gods Of The East

Because I sought it far from men,
In deserts and alone,
I found it burning overhead,
The jewel of a Throne.

Because I sought, I sought it so
And spent my days to find,
It blazed one moment ere it left
The blacker night behind.

We be the Gods of the East,
Older than all,
Masters of Mourning and Feast,
How shall we fall?


This I saw when the rites were done,
And the lamps were dead and the Gods alone,
And the grey snake coiled on the altar stone,
Ere I fled from a Fear that I could not see,
And the Gods of the East made mouths at me.

Rudyard

Gow’s Watch : Act II. Scene 2.

ACT II. SCENE 2.


The pavilion in the Gardens. Enter FERDINAND and the KING

FERDINAND. Your tiercel’s too long at hack, Sir. He’s no eyass
But a passage-hawk that footed ere we caught him,
Dangerously free o’ the air. ‘Faith were he mine
(As mine’s the glove he binds to for his tirings)
I’d fly him with a make-hawk. He’s in yarak
Plumed to the very point. So manned so, weathered!
Give him the firmament God made him for
And what shall take the air of him?

THE KING. A young wing yet
Bold, overbold on the perch but, think you, Ferdinand,
He can endure the raw skies yonder? Cozen
Advantage out of the teeth of the hurricane?
Choose his own mate against the lammer-geier?
Ride out a night-long tempest, hold his pitch
Between the lightning and t...

Rudyard

Gow’s Watch : Act IV. Scene 4.

The Head of the Bargi Pass, in snow. Gow and Ferdinand with their Captains.

GOW (to Ferdinand). The Queen’s host would be delivered me to-day, but that these Mountain Men have sent battalia to hold the Pass. They’re shod, helmed and torqued with soft gold. For the rest, naked. By no argument can I persuade ’em their gilt carcasses against my bombards avail not. What’s to do, Fox?

FERDINAND. Fatherless folk go furthest. These loud pagans
Are doubly fatherless. Consider; they came
Over the passes, out of all man’s world,
Adullamites, unable to endure
Its ancient pinch and belly-ache, full of revenges
Or wilfully forgetful. The land they found
Was manless-her raw airs uncloven by speech,
Earth without wheel-track, hoof-mark, hearth or ploughshare
Since God created; nor even a cave...

Rudyard

Gow’s Watch : Act V. scene 3

After the Battle. The PRINCESS by the Standard on the Ravelin.

Enter Gow, with the Crown of the Kingdom.

GOW. Here’s earnest of the Queen’s submission.
This by her last herald, and in haste.

PRINCESS. ’Twas ours already. Where is the woman?

GOW. ’Fled with her horse. They broke at dawn.
Noon has not struck, and you’re Queen questionless.

PRINCESS. By you, through you. How shall I honour you?

GOW. Me? But for what?

PRINCESS. For all, all, all,
Since the realm sunk beneath us! Hear him! For what?’
Your body ’twixt my bosom and her knife,
Your lips on the cup she proffered for my death;
Your one cloak over me, that night in the snows
We held the Pass at Bargi. Every hour
New strengths, to this most unbelievable last.
‘Hon...

Rudyard

Great-Heart

Theodore Roosevelt

"The interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-Heart." - Bunyan's' Pilgrim's Progess.

Concerning brave Captains
Our age hath made known
For all men to honour,
One standeth alone,
Of whom, o'er both oceans,
Both peoples may say:
"Our realm is diminished
With Great-Heart away."

In purpose unsparing,
In action no less,
The labours he praised
He would seek and profess
Through travail and battle,
At hazard and pain....
And our world is none the braver
Since Great-Heart was ta'en!

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 m...

Rudyard

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
Wa...

Rudyard

Hadramauti

Who knows the heart of the Christian? How does he reason?
What are his measures and balances? Which is his season
For laughter, forbearance or bloodshed, and what devils move him
When he arises to smite us? I do not love him.
He invites the derision of strangers, he enters all places.
Booted, bareheaded he enters. With shouts and embraces
He asks of us news of the household whom we reckon nameless.
Certainly Allah created him forty-fold shameless!

So it is not in the Desert. One came to me weeping,
The Avenger of Blood on his track, I took him in keeping.
Demanding not whom he had slain, I refreshed him, I fed him
As he were even a brother. But Eblis had bred him.

He was the son of an ape, ill at ease in his clothing.
He talked with his head, hands and feet. I en...

Rudyard

Half-Ballade Of Waterval

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 t...

Rudyard

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 p...

Rudyard

Have You News Of My Boy Jack?

'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind,
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!

Rudyard

Helen All Alone

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 ...

Rudyard

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