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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ac5885 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60260 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60260) diff --git a/old/60260-0.txt b/old/60260-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e55d6f2..0000000 --- a/old/60260-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2706 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Five Nations, Volume I (of 2), by Rudyard Kipling - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Five Nations, Volume I (of 2) - -Author: Rudyard Kipling - -Release Date: September 8, 2019 [EBook #60260] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIVE NATIONS, VOLUME I (OF 2) *** - - - - -Produced by deaurider and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - - -Italic text is enclosed in _underscores_; small-caps text has been -changed to all-caps. - -Bracketed page numbers, such as [Page 18], at the beginning of each -Poem, were added as a Search aid by Transcriber, as the Table of -Contents is in alphabetical, rather than page number sequence. - - - - - - - THE SERVICE EDITION - OF - THE WORKS OF - RUDYARD KIPLING - - - - - THE FIVE NATIONS - - VOL. I - - - - - THE - - FIVE NATIONS - - BY RUDYARD KIPLING - - IN TWO VOLUMES - VOL. I - - [Illustration] - - METHUEN AND CO., LTD. - 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. - - - - - _First Published_ _September 1903_ - _Second Edition_ _1903_ - _Third Edition_ _1907_ - _Fourth Edition_ _1908_ - _Fifth and Sixth Editions_ _1909_ - _Seventh Edition_ _1910_ - _Eighth Edition_ _1911_ - _Ninth Edition_ _1912_ - _Tenth, Eleventh, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Editions_ _1913_ - _Fourteenth Edition_ _1914_ - _Fifteenth Edition (2 vols.)_ _1914_ - - - - -DEDICATION [Page vii] - - - _Before a midnight breaks in storm, - Or herded sea in wrath, - Ye know what wavering gusts inform - The greater tempest’s path; - Till the loosed wind - Drive all from mind, - Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry, - O’ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky._ - - _Ere rivers league against the land - In piratry of flood, - Ye know what waters slip and stand - Where seldom water stood. - Yet who will note, - Till fields afloat, - And washen carcass and the returning well, - Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell?_ - - _Ye know who use the Crystal Ball - (To peer by stealth on Doom), - The Shade that, shaping first of all, - Prepares an empty room. - Then doth It pass - Like breath from glass, - But, on the extorted vision bowed intent, - No man considers why It came or went._ - - _Before the years reborn behold - Themselves with stranger eye, - And the sport-making Gods of old, - Like Samson slaying, die, - Many shall hear - The all-pregnant sphere, - Bow to the birth and sweat, but--speech denied-- - Sit dumb or--dealt in part--fall weak and wide._ - - _Yet instant to fore-shadowed need - The eternal balance swings; - That wingèd men the Fates may breed - So soon as Fate hath wings. - These shall possess - Our littleness, - And in the imperial task (as worthy) lay - Up our lives’ all to piece one giant day._ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - DEDICATION vii - - - THE FIVE NATIONS - - BELL BUOY, THE 4 - - BROKEN MEN, THE 39 - - BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA 90 - - BURIAL, THE 74 - - CRUISERS 9 - - DESTROYERS, THE 13 - - DYKES, THE 26 - - ‘ET DONA FERENTES’ 107 - - EXPLORER, THE 61 - - FEET OF THE YOUNG MEN, THE 44 - - GENERAL JOUBERT 77 - - KITCHENER’S SCHOOL 113 - - OLD MEN, THE 57 - - OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS 104 - - PALACE, THE 78 - - PHARAOH AND THE SERGEANT 98 - - RIMMON 123 - - SEA AND THE HILLS, THE 1 - - SECOND VOYAGE, THE 23 - - SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ, THE 32 - - SONG OF THE WISE CHILDREN 87 - - SUSSEX 81 - - TRUCE OF THE BEAR, 51 - - WAGE-SLAVES, THE 70 - - WHITE HORSES 18 - - WHITE MAN’S BURDEN, THE 94 - - YOUNG QUEEN, THE 118 - - - - -INDEX TO FIRST LINES - - - PAGE - A Nation spoke to a Nation, 104 - - As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine, 9 - - - _Before a midnight breaks in storm_, vii - - - Duly with knees that feign to quake, 123 - - - For things we never mention, 39 - - - God gave all men all earth to love, 81 - - - Her hand was still on her sword-hilt, the spur was still on her - heel, 118 - - - In extended observation of the ways and works of man, 107 - - - Now the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose, 44 - - - Oh glorious are the guarded heights, 70 - - Oh Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on - your breast! 113 - - Oh ye who tread the Narrow Way, 90 - - - Said England unto Pharaoh, ‘I must make a man of you,’ 98 - - - Take up the White Man’s burden, 94 - - The God of Fair Beginnings, 32 - - ‘There’s no sense in going further--it’s the edge of cultivation,’ 61 - - The strength of twice three thousand horse, 13 - - They christened my brother of old, 4 - - This is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end, 57 - - - We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar, 26 - - We’ve sent our little Cupids all ashore, 23 - - When I was a King and a Mason--a Master proven and skilled, 78 - - When that great Kings return to clay, 74 - - When the darkened Fifties dip to the North, 87 - - Where run your colts at pasture, 18 - - Who hath desired the Sea?--the sight of salt water unbounded, 1 - - With those that bred, with those that loosed the strife, 77 - - - Yearly, with tent and rifle, our careless white men go, 51 - - - - -THE SEA AND THE HILLS [Page 1] - - - Who hath desired the Sea?--the sight of salt water unbounded-- - The heave and the halt and the hurl and the crash of the comber - wind-hounded? - The sleek-barrelled swell before storm, grey, foamless, enormous, and - growing-- - Stark calm on the lap of the Line or the crazy-eyed hurricane - blowing-- - His Sea in no showing the same--his Sea and the same ’neath each - showing-- - His Sea as she slackens or thrills? - So and no otherwise--so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills! - - Who hath desired the Sea?--the immense and contemptuous surges? - The shudder, the stumble, the swerve, as the star-stabbing bowsprit - emerges? - The orderly clouds of the Trades, and the ridged, roaring sapphire - thereunder-- - Unheralded cliff-haunting flaws and the headsail’s low-volleying - thunder-- - His Sea in no wonder the same--his Sea and the same through each - wonder: - His Sea as she rages or stills? - So and no otherwise--so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills. - - Who hath desired the Sea? Her menaces swift as her mercies, - The in-rolling walls of the fog and the silver-winged breeze that - disperses? - The unstable mined berg going South and the calvings and groans that - declare it; - White water half-guessed overside and the moon breaking timely to - bare it; - His Sea as his fathers have dared--his Sea as his children shall dare - it-- - His Sea as she serves him or kills? - So and no otherwise--so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills. - - Who hath desired the Sea? Her excellent loneliness rather - Than forecourts of kings, and her outermost pits than the streets - where men gather - Inland, among dust, under trees--inland where the slayer may slay - him-- - Inland, out of reach of her arms, and the bosom whereon he must lay - him-- - His Sea at the first that betrayed--at the last that shall never - betray him-- - His Sea that his being fulfils? - So and no otherwise--so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills. - - - - -THE BELL BUOY [Page 4] - - - They christened my brother of old-- - And a saintly name he bears-- - They gave him his place to hold - At the head of the belfry-stairs, - Where the minster-towers stand - And the breeding kestrels cry. - Would I change with my brother a league inland? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - In the flush of the hot June prime, - O’er smooth flood-tides afire, - I hear him hurry the chime - To the bidding of checked Desire; - Till the sweated ringers tire - And the wild bob-majors die. - Could I wait for my turn in the godly choir? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - When the smoking scud is blown, - When the greasy wind-rack lowers, - Apart and at peace and alone, - He counts the changeless hours. - He wars with darkling Powers - (I war with a darkling sea); - Would he stoop to my work in the gusty mirk? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not he! - - There was never a priest to pray, - There was never a hand to toll, - When they made me guard of the bay, - And moored me over the shoal. - I rock, I reel, and I roll-- - My four great hammers ply-- - Could I speak or be still at the Church’s will? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - The landward marks have failed, - The fog-bank glides unguessed, - The seaward lights are veiled, - The spent deep feigns her rest: - But my ear is laid to her breast, - I lift to the swell--I cry! - Could I wait in sloth on the Church’s oath? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - At the careless end of night - I thrill to the nearing screw; - I turn in the nearing light - And I call to the drowsy crew; - And the mud boils foul and blue - As the blind bow backs away. - Will they give me their thanks if they clear the banks? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not they! - - The beach-pools cake and skim, - The bursting spray-heads freeze, - I gather on crown and rim - The grey, grained ice of the seas, - Where, sheathed from bitt to trees, - The plunging colliers lie. - Would I barter my place for the Church’s grace? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - Through the blur of the whirling snow, - Or the black of the inky sleet, - The lanterns gather and grow, - And I look for the homeward fleet. - Rattle of block and sheet-- - ‘Ready about--stand by!’ - Shall I ask them a fee ere they fetch the quay? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - I dip and I surge and I swing - In the rip of the racing tide, - By the gates of doom I sing, - On the horns of death I ride. - A ship-length overside, - Between the course and the sand, - Fretted and bound I bide - Peril whereof I cry. - Would I change with my brother a league inland? - (_Shoal! ’Ware shoal!_) Not I! - - - - -CRUISERS [Page 9] - - - As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine, - Made play for her bully the Ship of the Line; - So we, her bold daughters by iron and fire, - Accost and decoy to our masters’ desire. - - Now pray you consider what toils we endure, - Night-walking wet sea-lanes, a guard and a lure; - Since half of our trade is that same pretty sort - As mettlesome wenches do practise in port. - - For this is our office: to spy and make room, - As hiding yet guiding the foe to their doom; - Surrounding, confounding, to bait and betray - And tempt them to battle the seas’ width away. - - The pot-bellied merchant foreboding no wrong - With headlight and sidelight he lieth along, - Till, lightless and lightfoot and lurking, leap we - To force him discover his business by sea. - - And when we have wakened the lust of a foe, - To draw him by flight toward our bullies we go, - Till, ’ware of strange smoke stealing nearer, he flies-- - Or our bullies close in for to make him good prize. - - So, when we have spied on the path of their host, - One flieth to carry that word to the coast; - And, lest by false doubling they turn and go free, - One lieth behind them to follow and see. - - Anon we return, being gathered again, - Across the sad valleys all drabbled with rain-- - Across the grey ridges all crispèd and curled-- - To join the long dance round the curve of the world. - - The bitter salt spindrift: the sun-glare likewise: - The moon-track a-quiver bewilders our eyes, - Where, linking and lifting, our sisters we hail - ’Twixt wrench of cross-surges or plunge of head-gale. - - As maidens awaiting the bride to come forth - Make play with light jestings and wit of no worth, - So, widdershins circling the bride-bed of death, - Each fleereth her neighbour and signeth and saith:-- - - ‘What see ye? Their signals, or levin afar? - ‘What hear ye? God’s thunder, or guns of our war? - ‘What mark ye? Their smoke, or the cloud-rack outblown? - ‘What chase ye? Their lights, or the Daystar low down?’ - - So, times past all number deceived by false shows, - Deceiving we cumber the road of our foes, - For this is our virtue: to track and betray; - Preparing great battles a sea’s width away. - - _Now peace is at end and our peoples take heart, - For the laws are clean gone that restrainèd our art; - Up and down the near headlands and against the far wind - We are loosed (O be swift!) to the work of our kind!_ - - - - -THE DESTROYERS [Page 13] - - - _The strength of twice three thousand horse - That seek the single goal; - The line that holds the rending course, - The hate that swings the whole: - The stripped hulls, slinking through the gloom, - At gaze and gone again-- - The Brides of Death that wait the groom-- - The Choosers of the Slain!_ - - Offshore where sea and skyline blend - In rain, the daylight dies; - The sullen, shouldering swells attend - Night and our sacrifice. - Adown the stricken capes no flare-- - No mark on spit or bar,-- - Girdled and desperate we dare - The blindfold game of war. - - Nearer the up-flung beams that spell - The council of our foes; - Clearer the barking guns that tell - Their scattered flank to close. - Sheer to the trap they crowd their way - From ports for this unbarred. - Quiet, and count our laden prey, - The convoy and her guard! - - On shoal with scarce a foot below, - Where rock and islet throng, - Hidden and hushed we watch them throw - Their anxious lights along. - Not here, not here your danger lies-- - (Stare hard, O hooded eyne!) - Save where the dazed rock-pigeons rise - The lit cliffs give no sign. - - Therefore--to break the rest ye seek, - The Narrow Seas to clear-- - Hark to the siren’s whimpering shriek-- - The driven death is here! - Look to your van a league away,-- - What midnight terror stays - The bulk that checks against the spray - Her crackling tops ablaze? - - Hit, and hard hit! The blow went home, - The muffled, knocking stroke-- - The steam that overruns the foam-- - The foam that thins to smoke-- - The smoke that clokes the deep aboil-- - The deep that chokes her throes - Till, streaked with ash and sleeked with oil, - The lukewarm whirlpools close! - - A shadow down the sickened wave - Long since her slayer fled: - But hear their chattering quick-fires rave - Astern, abeam, ahead! - Panic that shells the drifting spar-- - Loud waste with none to check-- - Mad fear that rakes a scornful star - Or sweeps a consort’s deck! - - Now, while their silly smoke hangs thick, - Now ere their wits they find, - Lay in and lance them to the quick-- - Our gallied whales are blind! - Good luck to those that see the end, - Good-bye to those that drown-- - For each his chance as chance shall send-- - And God for all! _Shut down!_ - - _The strength of twice three thousand horse - That serve the one command; - The hand that heaves the headlong force, - The hate that hacks the hand: - The doom-bolt in the darkness freed, - The mine that splits the main; - The white-hot wake, the ’wildering speed-- - The Choosers of the Slain!_ - - - - -WHITE HORSES [Page 18] - - - _Where run your colts at pasture? - Where hide your mares to breed?_ - ’Mid bergs about the Ice-cap - Or wove Sargasso weed; - By chartless reef and channel, - Or crafty coastwise bars, - But most the ocean-meadows - All purple to the stars! - - _Who holds the rein upon you?_ - The latest gale let free. - _What meat is in your mangers?_ - The glut of all the sea. - ’Twixt tide and tide’s returning - Great store of newly dead,-- - The bones of those that faced us, - And the hearts of those that fled. - - Afar, off-shore and single, - Some stallion, rearing swift, - Neighs hungry for new fodder, - And calls us to the drift. - Then down the cloven ridges-- - A million hooves unshod-- - Break forth the mad White Horses - To seek their meat from God! - - Girth-deep in hissing water - Our furious vanguard strains-- - Through mist of mighty tramplings - Roll up the fore-blown manes-- - A hundred leagues to leeward, - Ere yet the deep is stirred, - The groaning rollers carry - The coming of the herd! - - _Whose hand may grip your nostrils-- - Your forelock who may hold?_ - E’en they that use the broads with us-- - The riders bred and bold, - That spy upon our matings, - That rope us where we run-- - They know the strong White Horses - From father unto son. - - We breathe about their cradles, - We race their babes ashore, - We snuff against their thresholds, - We nuzzle at their door; - By day with stamping squadrons, - By night in whinnying droves, - Creep up the wise White Horses, - To call them from their loves. - - _And come they for your calling?_ - No wit of man may save. - They hear the loosed White Horses - Above their father’s grave; - And, kin of those we crippled, - And, sons of those we slew, - Spur down the wild white riders - To school the herds anew. - - _What service have ye paid them, - Oh jealous steeds and strong?_ - Save we that throw their weaklings, - Is none dare work them wrong; - While thick around the homestead - Our snow-backed leaders graze-- - A guard behind their plunder, - And a veil before their ways. - - With march and countermarchings-- - With weight of wheeling hosts-- - Stray mob or bands embattled-- - We ring the chosen coasts: - And, careless of our clamour - That bids the stranger fly, - At peace within our pickets - The wild white riders lie. - - * * * * * - - Trust ye the curdled hollows-- - Trust ye the neighing wind-- - Trust ye the moaning groundswell-- - Our herds are close behind! - To bray your foeman’s armies-- - To chill and snap his sword-- - Trust ye the wild White Horses, - The Horses of the Lord! - - - - -THE SECOND VOYAGE [Page 23] - - - We’ve sent our little Cupids all ashore-- - They were frightened, they were tired, they were cold; - Our sails of silk and purple go to store, - And we’ve cut away our mast of beaten gold. - (Foul weather!) - Oh ’tis hemp and singing pine for to stand against the brine, - But Love he is the master as of old! - - The sea has shorn our galleries away, - The salt has soiled our gilding past remede; - Our paint is flaked and blistered by the spray, - Our sides are half a fathom furred in weed, - (Foul weather!) - And the doves of Venus fled and the petrels came instead, - But Love he was our master at our need! - - ’Was Youth would keep no vigil at the bow, - ’Was Pleasure at the helm too drunk to steer-- - We’ve shipped three able quartermasters now, - Men call them Custom, Reverence, and Fear. - (Foul weather!) - They are old and scarred and plain, but we’ll run no risk again - From any Port o’ Paphos mutineer! - - We seek no more the tempest for delight, - We skirt no more the indraught and the shoal-- - We ask no more of any day or night - Than to come with least adventure to our goal. - (Foul weather!) - What we find we needs must brook, but we do not go to look, - Nor tempt the Lord our God that saved us whole! - - Yet, caring so, not overly we care - To brace and trim for every foolish blast, - If the squall be pleased to sweep us unaware, - He may bellow off to leeward like the last. - (Foul weather!) - We will blame it on the deep (for the watch must have their sleep), - And Love can come and wake us when ’tis past. - - Oh launch them down with music from the beach, - Oh warp them out with garlands from the quays-- - Most resolute--a damsel unto each-- - New prows that seek the old Hesperides! - (Foul weather!) - Though we know the voyage is vain, yet we see our path again - In the saffroned bridesails scenting all the seas! - (Foul weather!) - - - - -THE DYKES [Page 26] - - - We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar-- - All that our fathers taught us of old pleases us now no more; - All that our own hearts bid us believe we doubt where we do not deny-- - There is no proof in the bread we eat or rest in the toil we ply. - - Look you, our foreshore stretches far through sea-gate, dyke, and - groin-- - Made land all, that our fathers made, where the flats and the fairway - join. - They forced the sea a sea-league back. They died, and their work - stood fast. - We were born to peace in the lee of the dykes, but the time of our - peace is past. - - Far off, the full tide clambers and slips, mouthing and testing - all, - Nipping the flanks of the water-gates, baying along the wall; - Turning the shingle, returning the shingle, changing the set of the - sand ... - We are too far from the beach, men say, to know how the outworks - stand. - - So we come down, uneasy, to look, uneasily pacing the beach. - These are the dykes our fathers made: we have never known a - breach. - Time and again has the gale blown by and we were not afraid; - Now we come only to look at the dykes--at the dykes our fathers - made. - - O’er the marsh where the homesteads cower apart the harried sunlight - flies, - Shifts and considers, wanes and recovers, scatters and sickens and - dies-- - An evil ember bedded in ash--a spark blown west by the wind ... - We are surrendered to night and the sea--the gale and the tide - behind! - - At the bridge of the lower saltings the cattle gather and blare, - Roused by the feet of running men, dazed by the lantern glare. - Unbar and let them away for their lives--the levels drown as they - stand, - Where the flood-wash forces the sluices aback and the ditches deliver - inland. - - Ninefold deep to the top of the dykes the galloping breakers stride, - And their overcarried spray is a sea--a sea on the landward side. - Coming, like stallions they paw with their hooves, going they snatch - with their teeth, - Till the bents and the furze and the sand are dragged out, and the - old-time wattles beneath! - - Bid men gather fuel for fire, the tar and the oil and the tow-- - Flame we shall need, not smoke, in the dark if the riddled seabanks - go. - Bid the ringers watch in the tower (who knows what the dawn shall - prove?) - Each with his rope between his feet and the trembling bells above. - - Now we can only wait till the day, wait and apportion our shame. - These are the dykes our fathers left, but we would not look to the - same. - Time and again were we warned of the dykes, time and again we - delayed: - Now, it may fall, we have slain our sons as our fathers we have - betrayed. - - * * * * * - - Walking along the wreck of the dykes, watching the work of the seas, - These were the dykes our fathers made to our great profit and ease; - But the peace is gone and the profit is gone, and the old sure day - withdrawn ... - That our own houses show as strange when we come back in the dawn! - - - - -THE SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ [Page 32] - - - The God of Fair Beginnings - Hath prospered here my hand-- - The cargoes of my lading, - And the keels of my command. - For out of many ventures - That sailed with hope as high, - My own have made the better trade, - And Admiral am I! - - To me my King’s much honour, - To me my people’s love-- - To me the pride of Princes - And power all pride above; - To me the shouting cities, - To me the mob’s refrain:-- - ‘Who knows not noble Valdez, - Hath never heard of Spain.’ - - But I remember comrades-- - Old playmates on new seas-- - Whenas we traded orpiment - Among the savages-- - A thousand leagues to south’ard - And thirty years removed-- - They knew not noble Valdez, - But me they knew and loved. - - Then they that found good liquor, - They drank it not alone, - And they that found fair plunder, - They told us every one, - About our chosen islands - Or secret shoals between, - When, walty from far voyage, - We gathered to careen. - - There burned our breaming-fagots - All pale along the shore: - There rose our worn pavilions-- - A sail above an oar: - As flashed each yearning anchor - Through mellow seas afire, - So swift our careless captains - Rowed each to his desire. - - Where lay our loosened harness? - Where turned our naked feet? - Whose tavern ’mid the palm-trees? - What quenchings of what heat? - Oh fountain in the desert! - Oh cistern in the waste! - Oh bread we ate in secret! - Oh cup we spilled in haste! - - The youth new-taught of longing, - The widow curbed and wan-- - The goodwife proud at season, - And the maid aware of man; - All souls unslaked, consuming, - Defrauded in delays, - Desire not more their quittance - Than I those forfeit days! - - I dreamed to wait my pleasure - Unchanged my spring would bide: - Wherefore, to wait my pleasure, - I put my spring aside - Till, first in face of Fortune, - And last in mazed disdain, - I made Diego Valdez - High Admiral of Spain. - - Then walked no wind ’neath Heaven - Nor surge that did not aid-- - I dared extreme occasion, - Nor ever one betrayed. - They wrought a deeper treason-- - (Led seas that served my needs!) - They sold Diego Valdez - To bondage of great deeds. - - The tempest flung me seaward, - And pinned and bade me hold - The course I might not alter-- - And men esteemed me bold! - The calms embayed my quarry, - The fog-wreath sealed his eyes; - The dawn-wind brought my topsails-- - And men esteemed me wise! - - Yet ’spite my tyrant triumphs - Bewildered, dispossessed-- - My dream held I before me-- - My vision of my rest; - But, crowned by Fleet and People, - And bound by King and Pope-- - Stands here Diego Valdez - To rob me of my hope! - - No prayer of mine shall move him, - No word of his set free - The Lord of Sixty Pennants - And the Steward of the Sea. - His will can loose ten thousand - To seek their loves again-- - But not Diego Valdez, - High Admiral of Spain. - - There walks no wind ’neath Heaven - Nor wave that shall restore - The old careening riot - And the clamorous, crowded shore-- - The fountain in the desert, - The cistern in the waste, - The bread we ate in secret, - The cup we spilled in haste! - - Now call I to my Captains-- - For council fly the sign, - Now leap their zealous galleys - Twelve-oared across the brine. - To me the straiter prison, - To me the heavier chain-- - To me Diego Valdez, - High Admiral of Spain! - - - - -THE BROKEN MEN [Page 39] - - - For things we never mention, - For Art misunderstood-- - For excellent intention - That did not turn to good; - From ancient tales’ renewing, - From clouds we would not clear-- - Beyond the Law’s pursuing - We fled, and settled here. - - We took no tearful leaving, - We bade no long good-byes; - Men talked of crime and thieving, - Men wrote of fraud and lies. - To save our injured feelings - ’Twas time and time to go-- - Behind was dock and Dartmoor, - Ahead lay Callao! - - The widow and the orphan - That pray for ten per cent., - They clapped their trailers on us - To spy the road we went. - They watched the foreign sailings - (They scan the shipping still), - And that’s your Christian people - Returning good for ill! - - God bless the thoughtful islands - Where never warrants come! - God bless the just Republics - That give a man a home, - That ask no foolish questions, - But set him on his feet; - And save his wife and daughters - From the workhouse and the street! - - On church and square and market - The noonday silence falls; - You’ll hear the drowsy mutter - Of the fountain in our halls. - Asleep amid the yuccas - The city takes her ease-- - Till twilight brings the land-wind - To our clicking jalousies. - - Day long the diamond weather, - The high, unaltered blue-- - The smell of goats and incense - And the mule-bells tinkling through. - Day long the warder ocean - That keeps us from our kin, - And once a month our levee - When the English mail comes in. - - You’ll find us up and waiting - To treat you at the bar; - You’ll find us less exclusive - Than the average English are. - We’ll meet you with our carriage, - Too glad to show you round, - But--we do not lunch on steamers, - For they are English ground. - - We sail o’ nights to England - And join our smiling Boards; - Our wives go in with Viscounts - And our daughters dance with Lords. - But behind our princely doings, - And behind each coup we make, - We feel there’s Something Waiting, - And--we meet It when we wake. - - Ah God! One sniff of England-- - To greet our flesh and blood-- - To hear the hansoms slurring - Once more through London mud! - Our towns of wasted honour-- - Our streets of lost delight! - How stands the old Lord Warden? - Are Dover’s cliffs still white? - - - - -THE FEET OF THE YOUNG MEN [Page 44] - - - Now the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose-- - Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain; - Now the Young Men’s hearts are troubled for the whisper of the - Trues, - Now the Red Gods make their medicine again! - Who hath seen the beaver busied? Who hath watched the black-tail - mating? - Who hath lain alone to hear the wild-goose cry? - Who hath worked the chosen water where the ouananiche is waiting, - Or the sea-trout’s jumping-crazy for the fly? - - _He must go--go--go away from here! - On the other side the world he’s overdue. - ’Send your road is clear before you when the old - Spring-fret comes o’er you - And the Red Gods call for you!_ - - So for one the wet sail arching through the rainbow round the bow, - And for one the creak of snow-shoes on the crust; - And for one the lakeside lilies where the bull-moose waits the cow, - And for one the mule-train coughing in the dust. - Who hath smelt wood-smoke at twilight? Who hath heard the birch-log - burning? - Who is quick to read the noises of the night? - Let him follow with the others, for the Young Men’s feet are - turning - To the camps of proved desire and known delight! - - _Let him go--go_, etc. - - -I - - Do you know the blackened timber--do you know that racing stream - With the raw, right-angled log-jam at the end; - And the bar of sun-warmed shingle where a man may bask and dream - To the click of shod canoe-poles round the bend? - It is there that we are going with our rods and reels and traces, - To a silent, smoky Indian that we know-- - To a couch of new-pulled hemlock with the starlight on our faces, - For the Red Gods call us out and we must go! - - _They must go--go_, etc. - - -II - - Do you know the shallow Baltic where the seas are steep and short, - Where the bluff, lee-boarded fishing-luggers ride? - Do you know the joy of threshing leagues to leeward of your port - On a coast you’ve lost the chart of overside? - It is there that I am going, with an extra hand to bale her-- - Just one able ’long-shore loafer that I know. - He can take his chance of drowning, while I sail and sail and sail - her, - For the Red Gods call me out and I must go! - - _He must go--go_, etc. - - -III - - Do you know the pile-built village where the sago-dealers trade-- - Do you know the reek of fish and wet bamboo? - Do you know the steaming stillness of the orchid-scented glade - When the blazoned, bird-winged butterflies flap through? - It is there that I am going with my camphor, net, and boxes, - To a gentle, yellow pirate that I know-- - To my little wailing lemurs, to my palms and flying-foxes, - For the Red Gods call me out and I must go! - - _He must go--go_, etc. - - -IV - - Do you know the world’s white roof-tree--do you know that windy rift - Where the baffling mountain-eddies chop and change? - Do you know the long day’s patience, belly-down on frozen drift, - While the head of heads is feeding out of range? - It is there that I am going, where the boulders and the snow lie, - With a trusty, nimble tracker that I know. - I have sworn an oath, to keep it on the Horns of Ovis Poli, - And the Red Gods call me out and I must go! - - _He must go--go_, etc. - - Now the Four-way Lodge is opened--now the Smokes of Council rise-- - Pleasant smokes, ere yet ’twixt trail and trail they choose-- - Now the girths and ropes are tested: now they pack their last - supplies: - Now our Young Men go to dance before the Trues! - Who shall meet them at those altars--who shall light them to that - shrine? - Velvet-footed, who shall guide them to their goal? - Unto each the voice and vision: unto each his spoor and sign-- - Lonely mountain in the Northland, misty sweat-bath ’neath the Line-- - And to each a man that knows his naked soul! - - White or yellow, black or copper, he is waiting, as a lover, - Smoke of funnel, dust of hooves, or beat of train-- - Where the high grass hides the horseman or the glaring flats - discover-- - Where the steamer hails the landing, or the surf-boat brings the - rover-- - Where the rails run out in sand-drift ... - Quick! ah, heave the camp-kit over! - For the Red Gods make their medicine again! - - _And we go--go--go away from here! - On the other side the world we’re overdue! - ’Send the road is clear before you when the old - Spring-fret comes o’er you, - And the Red Gods call for you!_ - - - - -THE TRUCE OF THE BEAR [Page 51] - - - Yearly, with tent and rifle, our careless white men go - By the pass called Muttianee, to shoot in the vale below. - Yearly by Muttianee he follows our white men in-- - Matun, the old blind beggar, bandaged from brow to chin. - - Eyeless, noseless, and lipless--toothless, broken of speech. - Seeking a dole at the doorway he mumbles his tale to each; - Over and over the story, ending as he began: - ‘Make ye no truce with Adam-zad--the Bear that walks like a man! - - ‘There was a flint in my musket--pricked and primed was the pan, - When I went hunting Adam-zad--the Bear that stands like a man. - I looked my last on the timber, I looked my last on the snow, - When I went hunting Adam-zad fifty summers ago! - - ‘I knew his times and his seasons, as he knew mine, that fed - By night in the ripened maizefield and robbed my house of bread; - I knew his strength and cunning, as he knew mine, that crept - At dawn to the crowded goat-pens and plundered while I slept. - - ‘Up from his stony playground--down from his well-digged lair-- - Out on the naked ridges ran Adam-zad the Bear; - Groaning, grunting, and roaring, heavy with stolen meals, - Two long marches to northward, and I was at his heels! - - ‘Two full marches to northward, at the fall of the second night, - I came on mine enemy Adam-zad all panting from his flight. - There was a charge in the musket--pricked and primed was the pan-- - My finger crooked on the trigger--when he reared up like a man. - - ‘Horrible, hairy, human, with paws like hands in prayer, - Making his supplication rose Adam-zad the Bear! - I looked at the swaying shoulders, at the paunch’s swag and swing, - And my heart was touched with pity for the monstrous, pleading thing. - - ‘Touched with pity and wonder, I did not fire then ... - I have looked no more on women--I have walked no more with men. - Nearer he tottered and nearer, with paws like hands that pray-- - From brow to jaw that steel-shod paw, it ripped my face away! - - ‘Sudden, silent, and savage, searing as flame the blow-- - Faceless I fell before his feet, fifty summers ago. - I heard him grunt and chuckle--I heard him pass to his den, - He left me blind to the darkened years and the little mercy of men. - - ‘Now ye go down in the morning with guns of the newer style, - That load (I have felt) in the middle and range (I have heard) a mile? - Luck to the white man’s rifle, that shoots so fast and true, - But--pay, and I lift my bandage and show what the Bear can do!’ - - (Flesh like slag in the furnace, knobbed and withered and grey-- - Matun, the old blind beggar, he gives good worth for his pay.) - ‘Rouse him at noon in the bushes, follow and press him hard-- - Not for his ragings and roarings flinch ye from Adam-zad. - - ‘But (pay, and I put back the bandage) this is the time to fear, - When he stands up like a tired man, tottering near and near; - When he stands up as pleading, in wavering, man-brute guise, - When he veils the hate and cunning of the little, swinish eyes; - ‘When he shows as seeking quarter, with paws like hands in prayer, - _That_ is the time of peril--the time of the Truce of the Bear!’ - - Eyeless, noseless, and lipless, asking a dole at the door, - Matun, the old blind beggar, he tells it o’er and o’er; - Fumbling and feeling the rifles, warming his hands at the flame, - Hearing our careless white men talk of the morrow’s game; - - Over and over the story, ending as he began:-- - ‘_There is no truce with Adam-zad, the Bear that looks like a man!_’ - - - - -THE OLD MEN [Page 57] - - - _This is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end-- - That we outlive the impatient years and the much too patient friend: - And because we know we have breath in our mouth and think we have - thought in our head, - We shall assume that we are alive, whereas we are really dead._ - - We shall not acknowledge that old stars fade or alien planets arise - (That the sere bush buds or the desert blooms or the ancient - well-head dries), - Or any new compass wherewith new men adventure ’neath new skies. - - We shall lift up the ropes that constrained our youth to bind on our - children’s hands; - We shall call to the water below the bridges to return and replenish - our lands; - We shall harness horses (Death’s own pale horses) and scholarly - plough the sands. - - We shall lie down in the eye of the sun for lack of a light on our - way-- - We shall rise up when the day is done and chirrup, ‘Behold, it is - day!’ - We shall abide till the battle is won ere we amble into the fray. - - We shall peck out and discuss and dissect, and evert and extrude to - our mind, - The flaccid tissues of long-dead issues offensive to God and mankind-- - (Precisely like vultures over an ox that the Army has left behind). - - We shall make walk preposterous ghosts of the glories we once created-- - (Immodestly smearing from muddled palettes amazing pigments mismated) - And our friends will weep when we ask them with boasts if our natural - force be abated. - - The Lamp of our Youth will be utterly out: but we shall subsist on - the smell of it, - And whatever we do, we shall fold our hands and suck our gums and - think well of it. - Yes, we shall be perfectly pleased with our work, And that is the - perfectest Hell of it! - - _This is our lot if we live so long and listen to those who love us-- - That we are shunned by the people about and shamed by the Powers - above us. - Wherefore be free of your harness betimes; but being free be assured, - That he who hath not endured to the death, from his birth he hath - never endured!_ - - - - -THE EXPLORER [Page 61] - - - ‘There’s no sense in going further--it’s the edge of cultivation,’ - So they said, and I believed it--broke my land and sowed my crop-- - Built my barns and strung my fences in the little border station - Tucked away below the foothills where the trails run out and stop. - - Till a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes - On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated--so: - ‘Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges-- - ‘Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!’ - - So I went, worn out of patience; ’never told my nearest neighbours-- - Stole away with pack and ponies--left ’em drinking in the town; - And the faith that moveth mountains didn’t seem to help my labours - As I faced the sheer main-ranges, whipping up and leading down. - - March by march I puzzled through ’em, turning flanks and dodging - shoulders, - Hurried on in hope of water, headed back for lack of grass; - Till I camped above the tree-line--drifted snow and naked boulders-- - Felt free air astir to windward--knew I’d stumbled on the Pass. - - ’Thought to name it for the finder: but that night the Norther found - me-- - Froze and killed the plains-bred ponies; so I called the camp - Despair - (It’s the Railway Gap to-day, though). Then my Whisper waked to hound - me:-- - ‘Something lost behind the Ranges. Over yonder. Go you there!’ - - Then I knew, the while I doubted--knew His Hand was certain o’er me. - Still--it might be self-delusion--scores of better men had died-- - I could reach the township living, but ... He knows what terrors tore - me ... - But I didn’t ... but I didn’t. I went down the other side. - - Till the snow ran out in flowers, and the flowers turned to aloes, - And the aloes sprung to thickets and a brimming stream ran by; - But the thickets dwined to thorn-scrub, and the water drained to - shallows-- - And I dropped again on desert, blasted earth, and blasting sky.... - - I remember lighting fires; I remember sitting by them; - I remember seeing faces, hearing voices through the smoke; - I remember they were fancy--for I threw a stone to try ’em. - ‘Something lost behind the Ranges,’ was the only word they spoke. - - I remember going crazy. I remember that I knew it - When I heard myself hallooing to the funny folk I saw. - Very full of dreams that desert: but my two legs took me through it ... - And I used to watch ’em moving with the toes all black and raw. - - But at last the country altered--White man’s country past disputing-- - Rolling grass and open timber, with a hint of hills behind-- - There I found me food and water, and I lay a week recruiting, - Got my strength and lost my nightmares. Then I entered on my find. - - Thence I ran my first rough survey--chose my trees and blazed and - ringed ’em-- - Week by week I pried and sampled--week by week my findings grew. - Saul he went to look for donkeys, and by God he found a kingdom! - But by God, who sent His Whisper, I had struck the worth of two! - - Up along the hostile mountains, where the hair-poised snow-slide - shivers-- - Down and through the big fat marshes that the virgin ore-bed - stains, - Till I heard the mile-wide mutterings of unimagined rivers, - And beyond the nameless timber saw illimitable plains! - - ’Plotted sites of future cities, traced the easy grades between ’em; - Watched unharnessed rapids wasting fifty thousand head an hour; - Counted leagues of water-frontage through the axe-ripe woods that - screen ’em-- - Saw the plant to feed a people--up and waiting for the power! - - Well I know who’ll take the credit--all the clever chaps that - followed-- - Came, a dozen men together--never knew my desert fears; - Tracked me by the camps I’d quitted, used the water-holes I’d - hollowed. - They’ll go back and do the talking. They’ll be called the - Pioneers! - - They will find my sites of townships--not the cities that I set - there. - They will rediscover rivers--not my rivers heard at night. - By my own old marks and bearings they will show me how to get there, - By the lonely cairns I builded they will guide my feet aright. - - Have I named one single river? Have I claimed one single acre? - Have I kept one single nugget--(barring samples)? No, not I. - Because my price was paid me ten times over by my Maker. - But you wouldn’t understand it. You go up and occupy. - - Ores you’ll find there; wood and cattle; water-transit sure and - steady - (That should keep the railway rates down), coal and iron at your - doors. - God took care to hide that country till He judged His people ready, - Then He chose me for His Whisper, and I’ve found it, and it’s yours! - - Yes, your ‘Never-never country’--yes, your ‘edge of cultivation’ - And ‘no sense in going further’--till I crossed the range to see. - God forgive me! No, _I_ didn’t. It’s God’s present to our nation. - Anybody might have found it but--His Whisper came to Me! - - - - -THE WAGE-SLAVES [Page 70] - - - Oh glorious are the guarded heights - Where guardian souls abide-- - Self-exiled from our gross delights-- - Above, beyond, outside: - An ampler arc their spirit swings-- - Commands a juster view-- - We have their word for all these things, - Nor doubt their words are true. - - Yet we the bondslaves of our day, - Whom dirt and danger press-- - Co-heirs of insolence, delay, - And leagued unfaithfulness-- - Such is our need must seek indeed - And, having found, engage - The men who merely do the work - For which they draw the wage. - - From forge and farm and mine and bench, - Deck, altar, outpost lone-- - Mill, school, battalion, counter, trench, - Rail, senate, sheepfold, throne-- - Creation’s cry goes up on high - From age to cheated age: - ‘Send us the men who do the work - For which they draw the wage.’ - - Words cannot help nor wit achieve, - Nor e’en the all-gifted fool, - Too weak to enter, bide, or leave - The lists he cannot rule. - Beneath the sun we count on none - Our evil to assuage, - Except the men that do the work - For which they draw the wage. - - When through the Gates of Stress and Strain - Comes forth the vast Event-- - The simple, sheer, sufficing, sane - Result of labour spent-- - They that have wrought the end unthought - Be neither saint nor sage, - But men who merely did the work - For which they drew the wage. - - Wherefore to these the Fates shall bend - (And all old idle things--) - Wherefore on these shall Power attend - Beyond the grasp of kings: - Each in his place, by right, not grace, - Shall rule his heritage-- - The men who simply do the work - For which they draw the wage. - - Not such as scorn the loitering street, - Or waste to earn its praise, - Their noontide’s unreturning heat - About their morning ways: - But such as dower each mortgaged hour - Alike with clean courage-- - Even the men who do the work - For which they draw the wage-- - Men like to Gods that do the work - For which they draw the wage-- - Begin--continue--close the work - For which they draw the wage! - - - - -THE BURIAL [Page 74] - -C. J. RHODES, buried in the Matoppos, - -April 10, 1902 - - - When that great Kings return to clay, - Or Emperors in their pride, - Grief of a day shall fill a day, - Because its creature died. - But we--we reckon not with those - Whom the mere Fates ordain, - This Power that wrought on us and goes - Back to the Power again. - - Dreamer devout, by vision led - Beyond our guess or reach, - The travail of his spirit bred - Cities in place of speech. - So huge the all-mastering thought that drove-- - So brief the term allowed-- - Nations, not words, he linked to prove - His faith before the crowd. - - It is his will that he look forth - Across the world he won-- - The granite of the ancient North-- - Great spaces washed with sun. - There shall he patient make his seat - (As when the Death he dared), - And there await a people’s feet - In the paths that he prepared. - - There, till the vision he foresaw - Splendid and whole arise, - And unimagined Empires draw - To council ’neath his skies, - The immense and brooding Spirit still - Shall quicken and control. - Living he was the land, and dead, - His soul shall be her soul! - - - - -GENERAL JOUBERT [Page 77] - -(DIED MARCH 27, 1900) - - - 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! - - - - -THE PALACE [Page 78] - - - When I was a King and a Mason--a Master proven and skilled-- - I cleared me ground for a palace such as a King should build. - I decreed and dug down to my levels. Presently, under the silt, - I came on the wreck of a palace such as a King had built. - - There was no worth in the fashion--there was no wit in the plan-- - Hither and thither, aimless, the ruined footings ran-- - Masonry, brute, mishandled, but carven on every stone: - ‘_After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known._’ - - Swift to my use in my trenches, where my well-planned ground-works - grew, - I tumbled his quoins and his ashlars, and cut and reset them anew. - Lime I milled of the marbles; burned it, slacked it, and spread; - Taking and leaving at pleasure the gifts of the humble dead. - - Yet I despised not nor gloried; yet, as we wrenched them apart, - I read in the razed foundations the heart of that builder’s heart. - As he had risen and pleaded, so did I understand - The form of the dream he had followed in the face of the thing he had - planned. - - * * * * * - - When I was a King and a Mason--in the open noon of my pride, - They sent me a Word from the Darkness--They whispered and called me - aside. - They said--‘The end is forbidden.’ They said--‘Thy use is fulfilled, - ‘And thy palace shall stand as that other’s--the spoil of a King who - shall build.’ - - I called my men from my trenches, my quarries, my wharves, and my - shears. - All I had wrought I abandoned to the faith of the faithless years. - Only I cut on the timber, only I carved on the stone: - _After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known!_ - - - - -SUSSEX [Page 81] - - - God gave all men all earth to love, - But since our hearts are small, - Ordained for each one spot should prove - Beloved over all; - That as He watched Creation’s birth, - So we, in godlike mood, - May of our love create our earth - And see that it is good. - - So one shall Baltic pines content, - As one some Surrey glade, - Or one the palm-grove’s droned lament - Before Levuka’s trade. - Each to his choice, and I rejoice - The lot has fallen to me - In a fair ground--in a fair ground-- - Yea, Sussex by the sea! - - No tender-hearted garden crowns, - No bosomed woods adorn - Our blunt, bow-headed, whale-backed Downs, - But gnarled and writhen thorn-- - Bare slopes where chasing shadows skim, - And through the gaps revealed - Belt upon belt, the wooded, dim - Blue goodness of the Weald. - - Clean of officious fence or hedge, - Half-wild and wholly tame, - The wise turf cloaks the white cliff edge - As when the Romans came. - What sign of those that fought and died - At shift of sword and sword? - The barrow and the camp abide, - The sunlight and the sward. - - Here leaps ashore the full Sou’west - All heavy-winged with brine, - Here lies above the folded crest - The Channel’s leaden line; - And here the sea-fogs lap and cling, - And here, each warning each, - The sheep-bells and the ship-bells ring - Along the hidden beach. - - We have no waters to delight - Our broad and brookless vales-- - Only the dewpond on the height - Unfed, that never fails, - Whereby no tattered herbage tells - Which way the season flies-- - Only our close-bit thyme that smells - Like dawn in Paradise. - - Here through the strong unhampered days - The tinkling silence thrills; - Or little, lost, Down churches praise - The Lord who made the hills: - But here the Old Gods guard their round, - And, in her secret heart, - The heathen kingdom Wilfrid found - Dreams, as she dwells, apart. - - Though all the rest were all my share, - With equal soul I’d see - Her nine-and-thirty sisters fair, - Yet none more fair than she. - Choose ye your need from Thames to Tweed, - And I will choose instead - Such lands as lie ’twixt Rake and Rye, - Black Down and Beachy Head. - - I will go out against the sun - Where the rolled scarp retires, - And the Long Man of Wilmington - Looks naked toward the shires; - And east till doubling Rother crawls - To find the fickle tide, - By dry and sea-forgotten walls, - Our ports of stranded pride. - - I will go north about the shaws - And the deep ghylls that breed - Huge oaks and old, the which we hold - No more than ‘Sussex weed’; - Or south where windy Piddinghoe’s - Begilded dolphin veers, - And black beside wide-bankèd Ouse - Lie down our Sussex steers. - - So to the land our hearts we give - Till the sure magic strike, - And Memory, Use, and Love make live - Us and our fields alike-- - That deeper than our speech and thought, - Beyond our reason’s sway, - Clay of the pit whence we were wrought - Yearns to its fellow-clay. - - _God gives all men all earth to love, - But since man’s heart is small, - Ordains for each one spot shall prove - Beloved over all. - Each to his choice, and I rejoice - The lot has fallen to me - In a fair ground--in a fair ground-- - Yea, Sussex by the sea!_ - - - - -SONG OF THE WISE CHILDREN [Page 87] - - - When the darkened Fifties dip to the North, - And frost and the fog divide the air, - And the day is dead at his breaking-forth, - Sirs, it is bitter beneath the Bear! - - Far to Southward they wheel and glance, - The million molten spears of morn-- - The spears of our deliverance - That shine on the house where we were born. - - Flying-fish about our bows, - Flying sea-fires in our wake: - This is the road to our Father’s House, - Whither we go for our soul’s sake! - - We have forfeited our birthright, - We have forsaken all things meet; - We have forgotten the look of light, - We have forgotten the scent of heat. - - They that walk with shaded brows, - Year by year in a shining land, - They be men of our Father’s House, - They shall receive us and understand. - - We shall go back by boltless doors, - To the life unaltered our childhood knew-- - To the naked feet on the cool, dark floors, - And the high-ceiled rooms that the Trade blows through: - - To the trumpet-flowers and the moon beyond, - And the tree-toad’s chorus drowning all-- - And the lisp of the split banana-frond - That talked us to sleep when we were small. - - The wayside magic, the threshold spells, - Shall soon undo what the North has done-- - Because of the sights and the sounds and the smells - That ran with our youth in the eye of the sun! - - And Earth accepting shall ask no vows, - Nor the Sea our love nor our lover the Sky. - When we return to our Father’s House - Only the English shall wonder why! - - - - -BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA [Page 90] - -‘_And there is a Japanese idol at Kamakura._’ - - - Oh ye who tread the Narrow Way - By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day, - Be gentle when the ‘heathen’ pray - To Buddha at Kamakura! - - To him the Way, the Law, Apart, - Whom Maya held beneath her heart, - Ananda’s Lord the Bodhisat, - The Buddha of Kamakura. - - For though he neither burns nor sees, - Nor hears ye thank your Deities, - Ye have not sinned with such as these, - His children at Kamakura; - - Yet spare us still the Western joke - When joss-sticks turn to scented smoke - The little sins of little folk - That worship at Kamakura-- - - The grey-robed, gay-sashed butterflies - That flit beneath the Master’s eyes-- - He is beyond the Mysteries - But loves them at Kamakura. - - And whoso will, from Pride released, - Contemning neither creed nor priest, - May feel the soul of all the East - About him at Kamakura. - - Yea, every tale Ananda heard, - Of birth as fish or beast or bird, - While yet in lives the Master stirred, - The warm wind brings Kamakura. - - Till drowsy eyelids seem to see, - A-flower ’neath her golden _htee_, - The Shwe-Dagon flare easterly - From Burmah to Kamakura; - - And down the loaded air there comes - The thunder of Thibetan drums, - And droned--‘_Om mane padme oms_’-- - A world’s width from Kamakura. - - Yet Brahmans rule Benares still, - Buddh-Gaya’s ruins pit the hill, - And beef-fed zealots threaten ill - To Buddha and Kamakura. - - A tourist-show, a legend told, - A rusting bulk of bronze and gold, - So much, and scarce so much, ye hold - The meaning of Kamakura? - - But when the morning prayer is prayed, - Think, ere ye pass to strife and trade, - Is God in human image made - No nearer than Kamakura? - - - - -THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN [Page 94] - - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - Send forth the best ye breed-- - Go bind your sons to exile - To serve your captives’ need; - To wait in heavy harness, - On fluttered folk and wild-- - Your new-caught, sullen peoples, - Half-devil and half-child. - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - In patience to abide, - To veil the threat of terror - And check the show of pride; - By open speech and simple, - An hundred times made plain, - To seek another’s profit, - And work another’s gain. - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - The savage wars of peace-- - Fill full the mouth of Famine - And bid the sickness cease; - And when your goal is nearest - The end for others sought, - Watch Sloth and heathen Folly - Bring all your hope to nought. - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - No tawdry rule of kings, - But toil of serf and sweeper-- - The tale of common things. - The ports ye shall not enter, - The roads ye shall not tread, - Go make them with your living, - And mark them with your dead. - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - And reap his old reward: - The blame of those ye better, - The hate of those ye guard-- - The cry of hosts ye humour - (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:-- - ‘Why brought ye us from bondage, - Our loved Egyptian night?’ - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - Ye dare not stoop to less-- - Nor call too loud on Freedom - To cloak your weariness; - By all ye cry or whisper, - By all ye leave or do, - The silent, sullen peoples - Shall weigh your Gods and you. - - Take up the White Man’s burden-- - Have done with childish days-- - The lightly proffered laurel, - The easy, ungrudged praise. - Comes now, to search your manhood - Through all the thankless years, - Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom, - The judgment of your peers! - - - - -PHARAOH AND THE SERGEANT [Page 98] - - ‘... Consider that the meritorious services of the Sergeant - Instructors attached to the Egyptian Army have 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.’ - - _Extract 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 _Vis_count-- - 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 you 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 years 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 Holborn 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 - That 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, - So Pharaoh fought like Sergeant Whatisname! - - It was wicked bad campaigning (cheap and nasty from the first), - There was heat and dust and coolie-work and sun, - There were vipers, flies, and sandstorms, there was cholera and - thirst, - But Pharaoh done the best he ever done. - Down the desert, down the railway, down the river, - Like Israelites from bondage so he came, - ’Tween the clouds o’ dust and fire to the land of his desire, - And his Moses, it was Sergeant Whatisname! - - We are eating dirt in handfuls for to save our daily bread, - Which we have to buy from those that hate us most, - And we must not raise the money where the Sergeant raised the dead, - And it’s wrong and bad and dangerous to boast. - But he did it on the cheap and on the quiet, - And he’s not allowed to forward any claim-- - Though he drilled a black man white, though he made a mummy - fight, - He will still continue Sergeant Whatisname-- - Private, Corporal, Colour-Sergeant, and Instructor-- - But the everlasting miracle’s the same! - - - - -OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS [Page 104] - -(CANADIAN PREFERENTIAL TARIFF, 1897) - - - A Nation spoke to a Nation, - A Queen sent word to a Throne: - ‘Daughter am I in my mother’s house, - But mistress in my own. - The gates are mine to open, - As the gates are mine to close, - And I set my house in order,’ - Said our Lady of the Snows. - - ‘Neither with laughter nor weeping, - Fear or the child’s amaze-- - Soberly under the White Man’s law - My white men go their ways. - Not for the Gentiles’ clamour-- - Insult or threat of blows-- - Bow we the knee to Baal,’ - Said our Lady of the Snows. - - ‘My speech is clean and single, - I talk of common things-- - Words of the wharf and the market-place - And the ware the merchant brings: - Favour to those I favour, - But a stumbling-block to my foes. - Many there be that hate us,’ - Said our Lady of the Snows. - - ‘I called my chiefs to council - In the din of a troubled year; - For the sake of a sign ye would not see, - And a word ye would not hear. - This is our message and answer; - This is the path we chose: - For we be also a people,’ - Said our Lady of the Snows. - - ‘Carry the word to my sisters-- - To the Queens of the East and the South. - I have proven faith in the Heritage - By more than the word of the mouth. - They that are wise may follow - Ere the world’s war-trumpet blows, - But I--I am first in the battle,’ - Said our Lady of the Snows. - - _A Nation spoke to a Nation, - A Throne sent word to a Throne: - ‘Daughter am I in my mother’s house, - But mistress in my own. - The gates are mine to open, - As the gates are mine to close, - And I abide by my mother’s house,’ - Said our Lady of the Snows._ - - - - -‘ET DONA FERENTES’ [Page 107] - - - In extended observation of the ways and works of man, - From the Four-mile Radius roughly to the plains of Hindustan: - I have drunk with mixed assemblies, seen the racial ruction rise, - And the men of half creation damning half creation’s eyes. - - I have watched them in their tantrums, all that pentecostal crew, - French, Italian, Arab, Spaniard, Dutch and Greek, and Russ and Jew, - Celt and savage, buff and ochre, cream and yellow, mauve and white, - But it never really mattered till the English grew polite; - - Till the men with polished toppers, till the men in long frock-coats, - Till the men that do not duel, till the men who fight with votes, - Till the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his - grid, - Began to ‘beg your pardon’ and--the knowing croupier hid. - - Then the bandsmen with their fiddles, and the girls that bring the - beer, - Felt the psychologic moment, left the lit casino clear; - But the uninstructed alien, from the Teuton to the Gaul, - Was entrapped, once more, my country, by that suave, deceptive - drawl. - - * * * * * - - As it was in ancient Suez or ’neath wilder, milder skies, - I ‘observe with apprehension’ when the racial ructions rise; - And with keener apprehension, if I read the times aright, - Hear the old casino order: ‘Watch your man, but be polite. - - ‘Keep your temper. Never answer (_that_ was why they spat and swore). - Don’t hit first, but move together (there’s no hurry) to the door. - Back to back, and facing outward while the linguist tells ’em how-- - "_Nous sommes allong à notre batteau, nous ne voulong pas un row._"’ - - So the hard, pent rage ate inward, till some idiot went too far ... - ‘Let ’em have it!’ and they had it, and the same was serious war. - Fist, umbrella, cane, decanter, lamp and beer-mug, chair and boot-- - Till behind the fleeing legions rose the long, hoarse yell for loot. - - Then the oil-cloth with its numbers, as a banner fluttered free; - Then the grand piano cantered, on three castors, down the quay; - White, and breathing through their nostrils, silent, systematic, - swift-- - They removed, effaced, abolished all that man could heave or lift. - - Oh, my country, bless the training that from cot to castle runs-- - The pitfall of the stranger but the bulwark of thy sons-- - Measured speech and ordered action, sluggish soul and unperturbed, - Till we wake our Island-Devil--nowise cool for being curbed! - - When the heir of all the ages ‘has the honour to remain,’ - When he will not hear an insult, though men make it ne’er so plain, - When his lips are schooled to meekness, when his back is bowed to - blows-- - Well the keen _aas-vogels_ know it--well the waiting jackal knows. - - Build on the flanks of Etna where the sullen smoke-puffs float-- - Or bathe in tropic waters where the lean fin dogs the boat-- - Cock the gun that is not loaded, cook the frozen dynamite-- - But oh, beware my country, when my country grows polite! - - - - -KITCHENER’S SCHOOL [Page 113] - - _Being a translation of the song that was made by a Mohammedan - schoolmaster of Bengal Infantry (some time on service at Suakim) - when he heard that the Sirdar was taking money from the English to - build a Madrissa for Hubshees--or a college for the Sudanese, 1898._ - - - Oh Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your - breast! - This is the message of Kitchener who did not break you in jest. - It was permitted to him to fulfil the long-appointed years; - Reaching the end ordained of old over your dead Emirs. - - He stamped only before your walls, and the Tomb ye knew was dust: - He gathered up under his armpits all the swords of your trust: - He set a guard on your granaries, securing the weak from the strong: - He said:--‘Go work the waterwheels that were abolished so long.’ - - He said:--‘Go safely, being abased. I have accomplished my vow.’ - That was the mercy of Kitchener. Cometh his madness now! - He does not desire as ye desire, nor devise as ye devise: - He is preparing a second host--an army to make you wise. - - Not at the mouth of his clean-lipped guns shall ye learn his name - again, - But letter by letter, from Kaf to Kaf, at the mouth of his chosen - men. - He has gone back to his own city, not seeking presents or bribes, - But openly asking the English for money to buy you Hakims and - scribes. - - Knowing that ye are forfeit by battle and have no right to live, - He begs for money to bring you learning--and all the English give. - It is their treasure--it is their pleasure--thus are their hearts - inclined: - For Allah created the English mad--the maddest of all mankind! - - They do not consider the Meaning of Things; they consult not creed - nor clan. - Behold, they clap the slave on the back, and behold, he ariseth a - man! - They terribly carpet the earth with dead, and before their cannon - cool, - They walk unarmed by twos and threes to call the living to school. - - How is this reason (which is their reason) to judge a scholar’s - worth, - By casting a ball at three straight sticks and defending the same - with a fourth? - But this they do (which is doubtless a spell) and other matters more - strange, - Until, by the operation of years, the hearts of their scholars - change: - - Till these make come and go great boats or engines upon the rail - (But always the English watch near by to prop them when they fail); - Till these make laws of their own choice and Judges of their own - blood; - And all the mad English obey the Judges and say that the Law is good. - - Certainly they were mad from of old: but I think one new thing, - That the magic whereby they work their magic--wherefrom their - fortunes spring-- - May be that they show all peoples their magic and ask no price in - return. - Wherefore, since ye are bond to that magic, O Hubshee, make haste and - learn! - - Certainly also is Kitchener mad. But one sure thing I know-- - If he who broke you be minded to teach you, to his Madrissa go! - Go, and carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your - breast, - For he who did not slay you in sport, he will not teach you in - jest. - - - - -THE YOUNG QUEEN [Page 118] - -(THE COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA, INAUGURATED NEW YEAR’S DAY 1901) - - - Her hand was still on her sword-hilt, the spur was still on her heel, - She had not cast her harness of grey war-dinted steel; - High on her red-splashed charger, beautiful, bold, and browned, - Bright-eyed out of the battle, the Young Queen rode to be crowned. - - She came to the Old Queen’s presence, in the Hall of Our Thousand - Years-- - In the Hall of the Five Free Nations that are peers among their - peers: - Royal she gave the greeting, loyal she bowed the head, - Crying--‘Crown me, my Mother!’ And the Old Queen stood and said:-- - - ‘How can I crown thee further? I know whose standard flies - Where the clean surge takes the Leeuwin or the coral barriers rise. - Blood of our foes on thy bridle, and speech of our friends in thy - mouth-- - How can I crown thee further, O Queen of the Sovereign South? - - ‘Let the Five Free Nations witness!’ But the Young Queen answered - swift:-- - ‘It shall be crown of Our crowning to hold Our crown for a - gift. - In the days when Our folk were feeble thy sword made sure Our lands: - Wherefore We come in power to take Our crown at thy hands.’ - - And the Old Queen raised and kissed her, and the jealous circlet - prest, - Roped with the pearls of the Northland and red with the gold of the - West, - Lit with her land’s own opals, levin-hearted, alive, - And the Five-starred Cross above them, for sign of the Nations Five. - - So it was done in the Presence--in the Hall of Our Thousand Years, - In the face of the Five Free Nations that have no peer but their - peers; - And the Young Queen out of the Southland kneeled down at the Old - Queen’s knee, - And asked for a mother’s blessing on the excellent years to be. - - And the Old Queen stooped in the stillness where the jewelled head - drooped low:-- - ‘Daughter no more but Sister, and doubly Daughter so-- - Mother of many princes--and child of the child I bore, - What good thing shall I wish thee that I have not wished before? - - ‘Shall I give thee delight in dominion--mere pride of thy setting - forth? - Nay, we be women together--we know what that lust is worth. - Peace in thy utmost borders, and strength on a road untrod? - These are dealt or diminished at the secret will of God. - - ‘I have swayed troublous councils, I am wise in terrible things; - Father and son and grandson, I have known the heart of the Kings. - Shall I give thee my sleepless wisdom, or the gift all wisdom above? - Ay, we be women together--I give thee thy people’s love: - - ‘Tempered, august, abiding, reluctant of prayers or vows, - Eager in face of peril as thine for thy mother’s house. - God requite thee, my Sister, through the wonderful years to be, - And make thy people to love thee as thou hast loved me!’ - - - - -RIMMON [Page 123] - - - Duly with knees that feign to quake-- - Bent head and shaded brow,-- - Yet once again, for my father’s sake, - In Rimmon’s House I bow. - - The curtains part, and the trumpet blares, - And the eunuchs howl aloud; - And the gilt, swag-bellied idol glares - Insolent over the crowd. - - ‘_This is Rimmon, Lord of the Earth--_ - ‘_Fear Him and bow the knee!_’ - And I watch my comrades hide their mirth - That rode to the wars with me. - - For we remember the sun and the sand - And the rocks whereon we trod, - Ere we came to a scorched and a scornful land - That did not know our God; - - As we remember the sacrifice - Dead men an hundred laid-- - Slain while they served His mysteries - And that He would not aid. - - Not though we gashed ourselves and wept, - For the high-priest bade us wait; - Saying He went on a journey or slept, - Or was drunk or had taken a mate. - - (_Praise ye Rimmon, King of Kings, - Who ruleth Earth and Sky!_ - And again I bow as the censer swings - And the God Enthroned goes by.) - - Ay, we remember His sacred ark - And the virtuous men that knelt - To the dark and the hush behind the dark - Wherein we dreamed He dwelt; - - Until we entered to hale Him out, - And found no more than an old - Uncleanly image girded about - The loins with scarlet and gold. - - Him we o’erset with the butts of our spears-- - Him and His vast designs-- - To be the scorn of our muleteers - And the jest of our halted lines. - - By the picket-pins that the dogs defile, - In the dung and the dust He lay, - Till the priests ran and chattered awhile - And wiped Him and took Him away. - - Hushing the matter before it was known, - They returned to our fathers afar, - And hastily set Him afresh on His throne - Because He had won us the war. - - Wherefore with knees that feign to quake-- - Bent head and shaded brow-- - To this dead dog, for my father’s sake, - In Rimmon’s House I bow. - - -Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty - -at the Edinburgh University Press - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - - -Transcriber remedied a missing left parenthesis. - -The text contains many unbalanced single quotation marks. 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- margin-bottom: .1em; - visibility: hidden; - color: white; - width: .01em; - display: none; - } - - blockquote {margin: 1.5em 3% 1.5em 3%;} - - .poem-container {text-align: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 3em;} - .poem {display: block;} - .poem .tb {text-align: left; padding-left: 3em;} - .poem .stanza {page-break-inside: avoid;} - - .transnote { - page-break-inside: avoid; - margin-left: 2%; - margin-right: 2%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - padding: .5em; - } -} - </style> - </head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Five Nations, Volume I (of 2), by Rudyard Kipling - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Five Nations, Volume I (of 2) - -Author: Rudyard Kipling - -Release Date: September 8, 2019 [EBook #60260] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIVE NATIONS, VOLUME I (OF 2) *** - - - - -Produced by deaurider and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="p4 center large vspace wspace"> -THE SERVICE EDITION<br /> -<span class="small">OF</span><br /> -THE WORKS OF<br /> -RUDYARD KIPLING</p> - -<h1 class="p8"><span class="wspace">THE FIVE NATIONS</span><br /> -<span class="small">VOL. I</span> -</h1> - -<div id="tp" class="newpage p8 center"> -<div class="bdrthin"><div class="bdrthick"><div class="bdrthin"> -<p class="xxlarge vspace gesperrt center"> -<span class="smaller">THE</span><br /> -FIVE NATIONS</p> - -<p class="center large wspace">BY RUDYARD KIPLING</p> - -<p class="p2 center wspace vspace">IN TWO VOLUMES<br /> -VOL. I</p> - -<div class="l2"> -<div class="figcenter" style="max-width: 15em;"> - <img src="images/i_000.jpg" width="240" height="326" alt="" /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p2 center large wspace vspace">METHUEN AND CO., LTD.<br /> -36 ESSEX STREET W.C.</p> -</div></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="newpage p8"> -<table summary="Publication history"> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>First Published</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>September 1903</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Second Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1903</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Third Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1907</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Fourth Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1908</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Fifth and Sixth Editions</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1909</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Seventh Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1910</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Eighth Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1911</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Ninth Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1912</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Tenth, Eleventh, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Editions</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1913</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Fourteenth Edition</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1914</i></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Fifteenth Edition (2 vols.)</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><i>1914</i></td></tr> -</table> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">vii</span></p> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="DEDICATION">DEDICATION</h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem italic"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Before a midnight breaks in storm,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or herded sea in wrath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye know what wavering gusts inform<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The greater tempest’s path;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Till the loosed wind<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Drive all from mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ere rivers league against the land<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In piratry of flood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye know what waters slip and stand<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where seldom water stood.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Yet who will note,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Till fields afloat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And washen carcass and the returning well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ye know who use the Crystal Ball<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(To peer by stealth on Doom),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Shade that, shaping first of all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Prepares an empty room.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Then doth It pass<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Like breath from glass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, on the extorted vision bowed intent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No man considers why It came or went.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Before the years reborn behold<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Themselves with stranger eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sport-making Gods of old,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like Samson slaying, die,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Many shall hear<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The all-pregnant sphere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bow to the birth and sweat, but—speech denied—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sit dumb or—dealt in part—fall weak and wide.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet instant to fore-shadowed need<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The eternal balance swings;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That wingèd men the Fates may breed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So soon as Fate hath wings.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">These shall possess<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Our littleness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the imperial task (as worthy) lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up our lives’ all to piece one giant day.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">ix</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table id="toc" summary="Contents"> - <tr class="small"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr">PAGE</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">DEDICATION</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tbpad"> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE FIVE NATIONS</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">BELL BUOY, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">BROKEN MEN, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">BURIAL, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">CRUISERS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">DESTROYERS, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">DYKES, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">‘ET DONA FERENTES’</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">EXPLORER, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">FEET OF THE YOUNG MEN, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">GENERAL JOUBERT</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">KITCHENER’S SCHOOL</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">OLD MEN, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">PALACE, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">PHARAOH AND THE SERGEANT</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">RIMMON</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SEA AND THE HILLS, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SECOND VOYAGE, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SONG OF THE WISE CHILDREN</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SUSSEX</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">TRUCE OF THE BEAR,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">WAGE-SLAVES, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">WHITE HORSES</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">WHITE MAN’S BURDEN, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">YOUNG QUEEN, THE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">xi</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="INDEX_TO_FIRST_LINES">INDEX TO FIRST LINES</h2> -</div> - -<table id="index" summary="Index to First Lines"> - <tr class="small"> - <td> </td> - <td class="tdr">PAGE</td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">A Nation spoke to a Nation,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl"><i>Before a midnight breaks in storm</i>,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Duly with knees that feign to quake,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">For things we never mention,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">God gave all men all earth to love,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Her hand was still on her sword-hilt, the spur was still on her heel,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">In extended observation of the ways and works of man,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Now the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Oh glorious are the guarded heights,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Oh Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast!</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Oh ye who tread the Narrow Way,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Said England unto Pharaoh, ‘I must make a man of you,’</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_98">98</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">xii</span></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Take up the White Man’s burden,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The God of Fair Beginnings,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">‘There’s no sense in going further—it’s the edge of cultivation,’</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">The strength of twice three thousand horse,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">They christened my brother of old,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">This is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">We’ve sent our little Cupids all ashore,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">When I was a King and a Mason—a Master proven and skilled,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">When that great Kings return to clay,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">When the darkened Fifties dip to the North,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Where run your colts at pasture,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">Who hath desired the Sea?—the sight of salt water unbounded,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">With those that bred, with those that loosed the strife,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> - <tr class="tpad"> - <td class="tdl">Yearly, with tent and rifle, our careless white men go,</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_SEA_AND_THE_HILLS">THE SEA AND THE HILLS<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">1</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Who</span> hath desired the Sea?—the sight of salt water unbounded—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heave and the halt and the hurl and the crash of the comber wind-hounded?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sleek-barrelled swell before storm, grey, foamless, enormous, and growing—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stark calm on the lap of the Line or the crazy-eyed hurricane blowing—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His Sea in no showing the same—his Sea and the same ’neath each showing—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">His Sea as she slackens or thrills?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So and no otherwise—so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who hath desired the Sea?—the immense and contemptuous surges?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shudder, the stumble, the swerve, as the star-stabbing bowsprit emerges?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The orderly clouds of the Trades, and the ridged, roaring sapphire thereunder—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unheralded cliff-haunting flaws and the headsail’s low-volleying thunder—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His Sea in no wonder the same—his Sea and the same through each wonder:<br /></span> -<span class="i10">His Sea as she rages or stills?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So and no otherwise—so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who hath desired the Sea? Her menaces swift as her mercies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The in-rolling walls of the fog and the silver-winged breeze that disperses?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The unstable mined berg going South and the calvings and groans that declare it;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White water half-guessed overside and the moon breaking timely to bare it;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His Sea as his fathers have dared—his Sea as his children shall dare it—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">His Sea as she serves him or kills?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So and no otherwise—so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who hath desired the Sea? Her excellent loneliness rather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than forecourts of kings, and her outermost pits than the streets where men gather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Inland, among dust, under trees—inland where the slayer may slay him—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Inland, out of reach of her arms, and the bosom whereon he must lay him—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His Sea at the first that betrayed—at the last that shall never betray him—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">His Sea that his being fulfils?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So and no otherwise—so and no otherwise hillmen desire their Hills.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_BELL_BUOY">THE BELL BUOY<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">4</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">They</span> christened my brother of old—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a saintly name he bears—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They gave him his place to hold<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At the head of the belfry-stairs,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the minster-towers stand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the breeding kestrels cry.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would I change with my brother a league inland?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the flush of the hot June prime,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’er smooth flood-tides afire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear him hurry the chime<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the bidding of checked Desire;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the sweated ringers tire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wild bob-majors die.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could I wait for my turn in the godly choir?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the smoking scud is blown,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the greasy wind-rack lowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Apart and at peace and alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He counts the changeless hours.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He wars with darkling Powers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(I war with a darkling sea);<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would he stoop to my work in the gusty mirk?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not he!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was never a priest to pray,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There was never a hand to toll,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When they made me guard of the bay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And moored me over the shoal.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I rock, I reel, and I roll—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My four great hammers ply—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could I speak or be still at the Church’s will?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The landward marks have failed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The fog-bank glides unguessed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The seaward lights are veiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The spent deep feigns her rest:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But my ear is laid to her breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I lift to the swell—I cry!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could I wait in sloth on the Church’s oath?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At the careless end of night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I thrill to the nearing screw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I turn in the nearing light<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I call to the drowsy crew;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the mud boils foul and blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the blind bow backs away.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will they give me their thanks if they clear the banks?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not they!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The beach-pools cake and skim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bursting spray-heads freeze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I gather on crown and rim<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The grey, grained ice of the seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where, sheathed from bitt to trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The plunging colliers lie.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would I barter my place for the Church’s grace?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Through the blur of the whirling snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or the black of the inky sleet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lanterns gather and grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I look for the homeward fleet.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rattle of block and sheet—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Ready about—stand by!’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall I ask them a fee ere they fetch the quay?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I dip and I surge and I swing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the rip of the racing tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the gates of doom I sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On the horns of death I ride.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A ship-length overside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between the course and the sand,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fretted and bound I bide<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Peril whereof I cry.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would I change with my brother a league inland?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<em>Shoal! ’Ware shoal!</em>) Not I!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="CRUISERS">CRUISERS<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap al"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">As</span> our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made play for her bully the Ship of the Line;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So we, her bold daughters by iron and fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Accost and decoy to our masters’ desire.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now pray you consider what toils we endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Night-walking wet sea-lanes, a guard and a lure;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since half of our trade is that same pretty sort<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As mettlesome wenches do practise in port.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For this is our office: to spy and make room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As hiding yet guiding the foe to their doom;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Surrounding, confounding, to bait and betray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tempt them to battle the seas’ width away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The pot-bellied merchant foreboding no wrong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With headlight and sidelight he lieth along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, lightless and lightfoot and lurking, leap we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To force him discover his business by sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when we have wakened the lust of a foe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To draw him by flight toward our bullies we go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, ’ware of strange smoke stealing nearer, he flies—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or our bullies close in for to make him good prize.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So, when we have spied on the path of their host,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One flieth to carry that word to the coast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, lest by false doubling they turn and go free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One lieth behind them to follow and see.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Anon we return, being gathered again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the sad valleys all drabbled with rain—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the grey ridges all crispèd and curled—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To join the long dance round the curve of the world.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The bitter salt spindrift: the sun-glare likewise:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moon-track a-quiver bewilders our eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where, linking and lifting, our sisters we hail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twixt wrench of cross-surges or plunge of head-gale.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As maidens awaiting the bride to come forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make play with light jestings and wit of no worth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So, widdershins circling the bride-bed of death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each fleereth her neighbour and signeth and saith:—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘What see ye? Their signals, or levin afar?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What hear ye? God’s thunder, or guns of our war?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What mark ye? Their smoke, or the cloud-rack outblown?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What chase ye? Their lights, or the Daystar low down?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So, times past all number deceived by false shows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deceiving we cumber the road of our foes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this is our virtue: to track and betray;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Preparing great battles a sea’s width away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i0">Now peace is at end and our peoples take heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the laws are clean gone that restrainèd our art;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up and down the near headlands and against the far wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are loosed (O be swift!) to the work of our kind!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_DESTROYERS">THE DESTROYERS<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap italic"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">The</span> strength of twice three thousand horse<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That seek the single goal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The line that holds the rending course,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The hate that swings the whole:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stripped hulls, slinking through the gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At gaze and gone again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Brides of Death that wait the groom—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Choosers of the Slain!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Offshore where sea and skyline blend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In rain, the daylight dies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sullen, shouldering swells attend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Night and our sacrifice.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adown the stricken capes no flare—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No mark on spit or bar,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Girdled and desperate we dare<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The blindfold game of war.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nearer the up-flung beams that spell<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The council of our foes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clearer the barking guns that tell<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their scattered flank to close.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sheer to the trap they crowd their way<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From ports for this unbarred.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quiet, and count our laden prey,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The convoy and her guard!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On shoal with scarce a foot below,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where rock and islet throng,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hidden and hushed we watch them throw<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their anxious lights along.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not here, not here your danger lies—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Stare hard, O hooded eyne!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save where the dazed rock-pigeons rise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lit cliffs give no sign.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Therefore—to break the rest ye seek,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Narrow Seas to clear—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hark to the siren’s whimpering shriek—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The driven death is here!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look to your van a league away,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What midnight terror stays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bulk that checks against the spray<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her crackling tops ablaze?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hit, and hard hit! The blow went home,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The muffled, knocking stroke—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The steam that overruns the foam—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The foam that thins to smoke—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The smoke that clokes the deep aboil—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The deep that chokes her throes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, streaked with ash and sleeked with oil,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lukewarm whirlpools close!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A shadow down the sickened wave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Long since her slayer fled:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But hear their chattering quick-fires rave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Astern, abeam, ahead!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Panic that shells the drifting spar—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Loud waste with none to check—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mad fear that rakes a scornful star<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or sweeps a consort’s deck!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now, while their silly smoke hangs thick,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now ere their wits they find,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lay in and lance them to the quick—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our gallied whales are blind!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good luck to those that see the end,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Good-bye to those that drown—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For each his chance as chance shall send—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And God for all! <em>Shut down!</em><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i0">The strength of twice three thousand horse<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That serve the one command;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hand that heaves the headlong force,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The hate that hacks the hand:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The doom-bolt in the darkness freed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The mine that splits the main;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The white-hot wake, the ’wildering speed—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Choosers of the Slain!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="WHITE_HORSES">WHITE HORSES<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap w"> -<span class="i0x"><em><span class="smcap1">Where</span> run your colts at pasture?</em><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><em>Where hide your mares to breed?</em><br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid bergs about the Ice-cap<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or wove Sargasso weed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By chartless reef and channel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or crafty coastwise bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But most the ocean-meadows<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All purple to the stars!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><em>Who holds the rein upon you?</em><br /></span> -<span class="i2">The latest gale let free.<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><em>What meat is in your mangers?</em><br /></span> -<span class="i2">The glut of all the sea.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twixt tide and tide’s returning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Great store of newly dead,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bones of those that faced us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the hearts of those that fled.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Afar, off-shore and single,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some stallion, rearing swift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Neighs hungry for new fodder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And calls us to the drift.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then down the cloven ridges—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A million hooves unshod—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Break forth the mad White Horses<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To seek their meat from God!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Girth-deep in hissing water<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our furious vanguard strains—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through mist of mighty tramplings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Roll up the fore-blown manes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A hundred leagues to leeward,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere yet the deep is stirred,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The groaning rollers carry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The coming of the herd!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<em><span class="i0">Whose hand may grip your nostrils—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your forelock who may hold?<br /></span></em> -<span class="i0">E’en they that use the broads with us—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The riders bred and bold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That spy upon our matings,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That rope us where we run—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They know the strong White Horses<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From father unto son.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We breathe about their cradles,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We race their babes ashore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We snuff against their thresholds,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We nuzzle at their door;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By day with stamping squadrons,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By night in whinnying droves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Creep up the wise White Horses,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To call them from their loves.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><em>And come they for your calling?</em><br /></span> -<span class="i2">No wit of man may save.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They hear the loosed White Horses<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above their father’s grave;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, kin of those we crippled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And, sons of those we slew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spur down the wild white riders<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To school the herds anew.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<em><span class="i0">What service have ye paid them,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh jealous steeds and strong?<br /></span></em> -<span class="i0">Save we that throw their weaklings,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is none dare work them wrong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While thick around the homestead<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our snow-backed leaders graze—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A guard behind their plunder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a veil before their ways.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With march and countermarchings—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With weight of wheeling hosts—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stray mob or bands embattled—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We ring the chosen coasts:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, careless of our clamour<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That bids the stranger fly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At peace within our pickets<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wild white riders lie.<br /></span> -</div> - -<div class="tb">* * * * *</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Trust ye the curdled hollows—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Trust ye the neighing wind—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trust ye the moaning groundswell—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our herds are close behind!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bray your foeman’s armies—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To chill and snap his sword—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trust ye the wild White Horses,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Horses of the Lord!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_SECOND_VOYAGE">THE SECOND VOYAGE<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">We’ve</span> sent our little Cupids all ashore—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They were frightened, they were tired, they were cold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our sails of silk and purple go to store,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And we’ve cut away our mast of beaten gold.<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh ’tis hemp and singing pine for to stand against the brine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But Love he is the master as of old!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sea has shorn our galleries away,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The salt has soiled our gilding past remede;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our paint is flaked and blistered by the spray,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our sides are half a fathom furred in weed,<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the doves of Venus fled and the petrels came instead,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But Love he was our master at our need!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Was Youth would keep no vigil at the bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Was Pleasure at the helm too drunk to steer—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ve shipped three able quartermasters now,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Men call them Custom, Reverence, and Fear.<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They are old and scarred and plain, but we’ll run no risk again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From any Port o’ Paphos mutineer!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We seek no more the tempest for delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We skirt no more the indraught and the shoal—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We ask no more of any day or night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than to come with least adventure to our goal.<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What we find we needs must brook, but we do not go to look,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor tempt the Lord our God that saved us whole!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet, caring so, not overly we care<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To brace and trim for every foolish blast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If the squall be pleased to sweep us unaware,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He may bellow off to leeward like the last.<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We will blame it on the deep (for the watch must have their sleep),<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Love can come and wake us when ’tis past.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh launch them down with music from the beach,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh warp them out with garlands from the quays—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most resolute—a damsel unto each—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">New prows that seek the old Hesperides!<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though we know the voyage is vain, yet we see our path again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the saffroned bridesails scenting all the seas!<br /></span> -<span class="i26">(Foul weather!)<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_DYKES">THE DYKES<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">We</span> have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All that our fathers taught us of old pleases us now no more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All that our own hearts bid us believe we doubt where we do not deny—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is no proof in the bread we eat or rest in the toil we ply.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Look you, our foreshore stretches far through sea-gate, dyke, and groin—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made land all, that our fathers made, where the flats and the fairway join.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They forced the sea a sea-league back. They died, and their work stood fast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We were born to peace in the lee of the dykes, but the time of our peace is past.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Far off, the full tide clambers and slips, mouthing and testing all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nipping the flanks of the water-gates, baying along the wall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turning the shingle, returning the shingle, changing the set of the sand ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are too far from the beach, men say, to know how the outworks stand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So we come down, uneasy, to look, uneasily pacing the beach.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are the dykes our fathers made: we have never known a breach.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time and again has the gale blown by and we were not afraid;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now we come only to look at the dykes—at the dykes our fathers made.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O’er the marsh where the homesteads cower apart the harried sunlight flies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shifts and considers, wanes and recovers, scatters and sickens and dies—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An evil ember bedded in ash—a spark blown west by the wind ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are surrendered to night and the sea—the gale and the tide behind!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At the bridge of the lower saltings the cattle gather and blare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roused by the feet of running men, dazed by the lantern glare.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unbar and let them away for their lives—the levels drown as they stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the flood-wash forces the sluices aback and the ditches deliver inland.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ninefold deep to the top of the dykes the galloping breakers stride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their overcarried spray is a sea—a sea on the landward side.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Coming, like stallions they paw with their hooves, going they snatch with their teeth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the bents and the furze and the sand are dragged out, and the old-time wattles beneath!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bid men gather fuel for fire, the tar and the oil and the tow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flame we shall need, not smoke, in the dark if the riddled seabanks go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bid the ringers watch in the tower (who knows what the dawn shall prove?)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each with his rope between his feet and the trembling bells above.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now we can only wait till the day, wait and apportion our shame.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are the dykes our fathers left, but we would not look to the same.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time and again were we warned of the dykes, time and again we delayed:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now, it may fall, we have slain our sons as our fathers we have betrayed.<br /></span> -</div> - -<div class="tb">* * * * *</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Walking along the wreck of the dykes, watching the work of the seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These were the dykes our fathers made to our great profit and ease;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the peace is gone and the profit is gone, and the old sure day withdrawn ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That our own houses show as strange when we come back in the dawn!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_SONG_OF_DIEGO_VALDEZ">THE SONG OF DIEGO VALDEZ<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">The</span> God of Fair Beginnings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hath prospered here my hand—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cargoes of my lading,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the keels of my command.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For out of many ventures<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That sailed with hope as high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My own have made the better trade,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Admiral am I!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To me my King’s much honour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To me my people’s love—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me the pride of Princes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And power all pride above;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me the shouting cities,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To me the mob’s refrain:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Who knows not noble Valdez,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hath never heard of Spain.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But I remember comrades—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Old playmates on new seas—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whenas we traded orpiment<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Among the savages—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand leagues to south’ard<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And thirty years removed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They knew not noble Valdez,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But me they knew and loved.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then they that found good liquor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They drank it not alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they that found fair plunder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They told us every one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About our chosen islands<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or secret shoals between,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, walty from far voyage,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We gathered to careen.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There burned our breaming-fagots<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All pale along the shore:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There rose our worn pavilions—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A sail above an oar:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As flashed each yearning anchor<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through mellow seas afire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So swift our careless captains<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rowed each to his desire.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where lay our loosened harness?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where turned our naked feet?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose tavern ’mid the palm-trees?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What quenchings of what heat?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh fountain in the desert!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh cistern in the waste!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh bread we ate in secret!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh cup we spilled in haste!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The youth new-taught of longing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The widow curbed and wan—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The goodwife proud at season,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the maid aware of man;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All souls unslaked, consuming,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Defrauded in delays,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Desire not more their quittance<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than I those forfeit days!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I dreamed to wait my pleasure<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unchanged my spring would bide:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherefore, to wait my pleasure,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I put my spring aside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, first in face of Fortune,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And last in mazed disdain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I made Diego Valdez<br /></span> -<span class="i2">High Admiral of Spain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then walked no wind ’neath Heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor surge that did not aid—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dared extreme occasion,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor ever one betrayed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They wrought a deeper treason—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Led seas that served my needs!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They sold Diego Valdez<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To bondage of great deeds.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The tempest flung me seaward,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And pinned and bade me hold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The course I might not alter—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And men esteemed me bold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The calms embayed my quarry,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The fog-wreath sealed his eyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dawn-wind brought my topsails—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And men esteemed me wise!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet ’spite my tyrant triumphs<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bewildered, dispossessed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My dream held I before me—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My vision of my rest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, crowned by Fleet and People,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bound by King and Pope—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stands here Diego Valdez<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To rob me of my hope!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No prayer of mine shall move him,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No word of his set free<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Lord of Sixty Pennants<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the Steward of the Sea.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His will can loose ten thousand<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To seek their loves again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But not Diego Valdez,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">High Admiral of Spain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There walks no wind ’neath Heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor wave that shall restore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old careening riot<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the clamorous, crowded shore—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fountain in the desert,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The cistern in the waste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bread we ate in secret,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The cup we spilled in haste!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now call I to my Captains—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For council fly the sign,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now leap their zealous galleys<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Twelve-oared across the brine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me the straiter prison,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To me the heavier chain—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me Diego Valdez,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">High Admiral of Spain!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_BROKEN_MEN">THE BROKEN MEN<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">For</span> things we never mention,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For Art misunderstood—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For excellent intention<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That did not turn to good;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From ancient tales’ renewing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From clouds we would not clear—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond the Law’s pursuing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We fled, and settled here.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We took no tearful leaving,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We bade no long good-byes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men talked of crime and thieving,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Men wrote of fraud and lies.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To save our injured feelings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Twas time and time to go—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behind was dock and Dartmoor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ahead lay Callao!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The widow and the orphan<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That pray for ten per cent.,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They clapped their trailers on us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To spy the road we went.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They watched the foreign sailings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(They scan the shipping still),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that’s your Christian people<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Returning good for ill!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">God bless the thoughtful islands<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where never warrants come!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God bless the just Republics<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That give a man a home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ask no foolish questions,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But set him on his feet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And save his wife and daughters<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the workhouse and the street!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On church and square and market<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The noonday silence falls;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’ll hear the drowsy mutter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of the fountain in our halls.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Asleep amid the yuccas<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The city takes her ease—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till twilight brings the land-wind<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To our clicking jalousies.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Day long the diamond weather,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The high, unaltered blue—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The smell of goats and incense<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the mule-bells tinkling through.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Day long the warder ocean<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That keeps us from our kin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And once a month our levee<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the English mail comes in.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You’ll find us up and waiting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To treat you at the bar;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’ll find us less exclusive<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than the average English are.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ll meet you with our carriage,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Too glad to show you round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But—we do not lunch on steamers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For they are English ground.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We sail o’ nights to England<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And join our smiling Boards;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our wives go in with Viscounts<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And our daughters dance with Lords.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But behind our princely doings,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And behind each coup we make,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We feel there’s Something Waiting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And—we meet It when we wake.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah God! One sniff of England—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To greet our flesh and blood—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hear the hansoms slurring<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Once more through London mud!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our towns of wasted honour—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our streets of lost delight!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How stands the old Lord Warden?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are Dover’s cliffs still white?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_FEET_OF_THE_YOUNG_MEN">THE FEET OF THE YOUNG MEN<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Now</span> the Four-way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the Young Men’s hearts are troubled for the whisper of the Trues,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now the Red Gods make their medicine again!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who hath seen the beaver busied? Who hath watched the black-tail mating?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who hath lain alone to hear the wild-goose cry?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who hath worked the chosen water where the ouananiche is waiting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or the sea-trout’s jumping-crazy for the fly?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i4">He must go—go—go away from here!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">On the other side the world he’s overdue.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">’Send your road is clear before you when the old<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Spring-fret comes o’er you<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And the Red Gods call for you!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So for one the wet sail arching through the rainbow round the bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And for one the creak of snow-shoes on the crust;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for one the lakeside lilies where the bull-moose waits the cow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And for one the mule-train coughing in the dust.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who hath smelt wood-smoke at twilight? Who hath heard the birch-log burning?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who is quick to read the noises of the night?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him follow with the others, for the Young Men’s feet are turning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the camps of proved desire and known delight!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><em>Let him go—go</em>, etc.<br /></span> -</div> - -<p class="sec">I</p> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Do you know the blackened timber—do you know that racing stream<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the raw, right-angled log-jam at the end;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bar of sun-warmed shingle where a man may bask and dream<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the click of shod canoe-poles round the bend?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is there that we are going with our rods and reels and traces,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To a silent, smoky Indian that we know—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To a couch of new-pulled hemlock with the starlight on our faces,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the Red Gods call us out and we must go!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><em>They must go—go</em>, etc.<br /></span> -</div> - -<p class="sec">II</p> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Do you know the shallow Baltic where the seas are steep and short,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the bluff, lee-boarded fishing-luggers ride?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do you know the joy of threshing leagues to leeward of your port<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On a coast you’ve lost the chart of overside?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is there that I am going, with an extra hand to bale her—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just one able ’long-shore loafer that I know.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He can take his chance of drowning, while I sail and sail and sail her,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the Red Gods call me out and I must go!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><em>He must go—go</em>, etc.<br /></span> -</div> - -<p class="sec">III</p> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Do you know the pile-built village where the sago-dealers trade—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Do you know the reek of fish and wet bamboo?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do you know the steaming stillness of the orchid-scented glade<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the blazoned, bird-winged butterflies flap through?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is there that I am going with my camphor, net, and boxes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To a gentle, yellow pirate that I know—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To my little wailing lemurs, to my palms and flying-foxes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the Red Gods call me out and I must go!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><em>He must go—go</em>, etc.<br /></span> -</div> - -<p class="sec">IV</p> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Do you know the world’s white roof-tree—do you know that windy rift<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the baffling mountain-eddies chop and change?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do you know the long day’s patience, belly-down on frozen drift,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While the head of heads is feeding out of range?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is there that I am going, where the boulders and the snow lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a trusty, nimble tracker that I know.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have sworn an oath, to keep it on the Horns of Ovis Poli,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the Red Gods call me out and I must go!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><em>He must go—go</em>, etc.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the Four-way Lodge is opened—now the Smokes of Council rise—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pleasant smokes, ere yet ’twixt trail and trail they choose—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the girths and ropes are tested: now they pack their last supplies:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now our Young Men go to dance before the Trues!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who shall meet them at those altars—who shall light them to that shrine?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Velvet-footed, who shall guide them to their goal?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto each the voice and vision: unto each his spoor and sign—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lonely mountain in the Northland, misty sweat-bath ’neath the Line—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And to each a man that knows his naked soul!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">White or yellow, black or copper, he is waiting, as a lover,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Smoke of funnel, dust of hooves, or beat of train—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the high grass hides the horseman or the glaring flats discover—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the steamer hails the landing, or the surf-boat brings the rover—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the rails run out in sand-drift ...<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Quick! ah, heave the camp-kit over!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the Red Gods make their medicine again!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i4">And we go—go—go away from here!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">On the other side the world we’re overdue!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">’Send the road is clear before you when the old<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Spring-fret comes o’er you,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And the Red Gods call for you!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_TRUCE_OF_THE_BEAR">THE TRUCE OF THE BEAR<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Yearly,</span> with tent and rifle, our careless white men go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the pass called Muttianee, to shoot in the vale below.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yearly by Muttianee he follows our white men in—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Matun, the old blind beggar, bandaged from brow to chin.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Eyeless, noseless, and lipless—toothless, broken of speech.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeking a dole at the doorway he mumbles his tale to each;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over and over the story, ending as he began:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Make ye no truce with Adam-zad—the Bear that walks like a man!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘There was a flint in my musket—pricked and primed was the pan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I went hunting Adam-zad—the Bear that stands like a man.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I looked my last on the timber, I looked my last on the snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I went hunting Adam-zad fifty summers ago!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘I knew his times and his seasons, as he knew mine, that fed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By night in the ripened maizefield and robbed my house of bread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I knew his strength and cunning, as he knew mine, that crept<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At dawn to the crowded goat-pens and plundered while I slept.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Up from his stony playground—down from his well-digged lair—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out on the naked ridges ran Adam-zad the Bear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Groaning, grunting, and roaring, heavy with stolen meals,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two long marches to northward, and I was at his heels!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Two full marches to northward, at the fall of the second night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I came on mine enemy Adam-zad all panting from his flight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was a charge in the musket—pricked and primed was the pan—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My finger crooked on the trigger—when he reared up like a man.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Horrible, hairy, human, with paws like hands in prayer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Making his supplication rose Adam-zad the Bear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I looked at the swaying shoulders, at the paunch’s swag and swing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my heart was touched with pity for the monstrous, pleading thing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Touched with pity and wonder, I did not fire then ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have looked no more on women—I have walked no more with men.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nearer he tottered and nearer, with paws like hands that pray—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From brow to jaw that steel-shod paw, it ripped my face away!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Sudden, silent, and savage, searing as flame the blow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faceless I fell before his feet, fifty summers ago.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard him grunt and chuckle—I heard him pass to his den,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He left me blind to the darkened years and the little mercy of men.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Now ye go down in the morning with guns of the newer style,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That load (I have felt) in the middle and range (I have heard) a mile?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Luck to the white man’s rifle, that shoots so fast and true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But—pay, and I lift my bandage and show what the Bear can do!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">(Flesh like slag in the furnace, knobbed and withered and grey—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Matun, the old blind beggar, he gives good worth for his pay.)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Rouse him at noon in the bushes, follow and press him hard—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not for his ragings and roarings flinch ye from Adam-zad.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘But (pay, and I put back the bandage) this is the time to fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he stands up like a tired man, tottering near and near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he stands up as pleading, in wavering, man-brute guise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he veils the hate and cunning of the little, swinish eyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘When he shows as seeking quarter, with paws like hands in prayer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><em>That</em> is the time of peril—the time of the Truce of the Bear!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Eyeless, noseless, and lipless, asking a dole at the door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Matun, the old blind beggar, he tells it o’er and o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fumbling and feeling the rifles, warming his hands at the flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hearing our careless white men talk of the morrow’s game;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over and over the story, ending as he began:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<em>There is no truce with Adam-zad, the Bear that looks like a man!</em>’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_OLD_MEN">THE OLD MEN<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap italic"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">This</span> is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That we outlive the impatient years and the much too patient friend:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And because we know we have breath in our mouth and think we have thought in our head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall assume that we are alive, whereas we are really dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We shall not acknowledge that old stars fade or alien planets arise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(That the sere bush buds or the desert blooms or the ancient well-head dries),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or any new compass wherewith new men adventure ’neath new skies.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We shall lift up the ropes that constrained our youth to bind on our children’s hands;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall call to the water below the bridges to return and replenish our lands;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall harness horses (Death’s own pale horses) and scholarly plough the sands.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We shall lie down in the eye of the sun for lack of a light on our way—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall rise up when the day is done and chirrup, ‘Behold, it is day!’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall abide till the battle is won ere we amble into the fray.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We shall peck out and discuss and dissect, and evert and extrude to our mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flaccid tissues of long-dead issues offensive to God and mankind—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Precisely like vultures over an ox that the Army has left behind).<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We shall make walk preposterous ghosts of the glories we once created—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Immodestly smearing from muddled palettes amazing pigments mismated)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And our friends will weep when we ask them with boasts if our natural force be abated.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Lamp of our Youth will be utterly out: but we shall subsist on the smell of it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whatever we do, we shall fold our hands and suck our gums and think well of it.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yes, we shall be perfectly pleased with our work, And that is the perfectest Hell of it!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i0">This is our lot if we live so long and listen to those who love us—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That we are shunned by the people about and shamed by the Powers above us.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherefore be free of your harness betimes; but being free be assured,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That he who hath not endured to the death, from his birth he hath never endured!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_EXPLORER">THE EXPLORER<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">‘There’s</span> no sense in going further—it’s the edge of cultivation,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So they said, and I believed it—broke my land and sowed my crop—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Built my barns and strung my fences in the little border station<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tucked away below the foothills where the trails run out and stop.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated—so:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So I went, worn out of patience; ’never told my nearest neighbours—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Stole away with pack and ponies—left ’em drinking in the town;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the faith that moveth mountains didn’t seem to help my labours<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As I faced the sheer main-ranges, whipping up and leading down.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">March by march I puzzled through ’em, turning flanks and dodging shoulders,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hurried on in hope of water, headed back for lack of grass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I camped above the tree-line—drifted snow and naked boulders—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Felt free air astir to windward—knew I’d stumbled on the Pass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Thought to name it for the finder: but that night the Norther found me—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Froze and killed the plains-bred ponies; so I called the camp Despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(It’s the Railway Gap to-day, though). Then my Whisper waked to hound me:—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘Something lost behind the Ranges. Over yonder. Go you there!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then I knew, the while I doubted—knew His Hand was certain o’er me.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Still—it might be self-delusion—scores of better men had died—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could reach the township living, but ... He knows what terrors tore me ...<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But I didn’t ... but I didn’t. I went down the other side.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till the snow ran out in flowers, and the flowers turned to aloes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the aloes sprung to thickets and a brimming stream ran by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the thickets dwined to thorn-scrub, and the water drained to shallows—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I dropped again on desert, blasted earth, and blasting sky....<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember lighting fires; I remember sitting by them;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I remember seeing faces, hearing voices through the smoke;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I remember they were fancy—for I threw a stone to try ’em.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘Something lost behind the Ranges,’ was the only word they spoke.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember going crazy. I remember that I knew it<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When I heard myself hallooing to the funny folk I saw.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Very full of dreams that desert: but my two legs took me through it ...<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I used to watch ’em moving with the toes all black and raw.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But at last the country altered—White man’s country past disputing—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rolling grass and open timber, with a hint of hills behind—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There I found me food and water, and I lay a week recruiting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Got my strength and lost my nightmares. Then I entered on my find.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thence I ran my first rough survey—chose my trees and blazed and ringed ’em—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Week by week I pried and sampled—week by week my findings grew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saul he went to look for donkeys, and by God he found a kingdom!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But by God, who sent His Whisper, I had struck the worth of two!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up along the hostile mountains, where the hair-poised snow-slide shivers—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down and through the big fat marshes that the virgin ore-bed stains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I heard the mile-wide mutterings of unimagined rivers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And beyond the nameless timber saw illimitable plains!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Plotted sites of future cities, traced the easy grades between ’em;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Watched unharnessed rapids wasting fifty thousand head an hour;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Counted leagues of water-frontage through the axe-ripe woods that screen ’em—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Saw the plant to feed a people—up and waiting for the power!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well I know who’ll take the credit—all the clever chaps that followed—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Came, a dozen men together—never knew my desert fears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tracked me by the camps I’d quitted, used the water-holes I’d hollowed.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They’ll go back and do the talking. They’ll be called the Pioneers!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They will find my sites of townships—not the cities that I set there.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They will rediscover rivers—not my rivers heard at night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By my own old marks and bearings they will show me how to get there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By the lonely cairns I builded they will guide my feet aright.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Have I named one single river? Have I claimed one single acre?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have I kept one single nugget—(barring samples)? No, not I.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because my price was paid me ten times over by my Maker.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But you wouldn’t understand it. You go up and occupy.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ores you’ll find there; wood and cattle; water-transit sure and steady<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(That should keep the railway rates down), coal and iron at your doors.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God took care to hide that country till He judged His people ready,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then He chose me for His Whisper, and I’ve found it, and it’s yours!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, your ‘Never-never country’—yes, your ‘edge of cultivation’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And ‘no sense in going further’—till I crossed the range to see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God forgive me! No, <em>I</em> didn’t. It’s God’s present to our nation.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Anybody might have found it but—His Whisper came to Me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_WAGE-SLAVES">THE WAGE-SLAVES<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Oh</span> glorious are the guarded heights<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where guardian souls abide—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Self-exiled from our gross delights—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above, beyond, outside:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An ampler arc their spirit swings—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Commands a juster view—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We have their word for all these things,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor doubt their words are true.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet we the bondslaves of our day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whom dirt and danger press—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Co-heirs of insolence, delay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And leagued unfaithfulness—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such is our need must seek indeed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And, having found, engage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The men who merely do the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From forge and farm and mine and bench,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Deck, altar, outpost lone—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mill, school, battalion, counter, trench,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rail, senate, sheepfold, throne—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Creation’s cry goes up on high<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From age to cheated age:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Send us the men who do the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Words cannot help nor wit achieve,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor e’en the all-gifted fool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too weak to enter, bide, or leave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lists he cannot rule.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the sun we count on none<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our evil to assuage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Except the men that do the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When through the Gates of Stress and Strain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes forth the vast Event—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The simple, sheer, sufficing, sane<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Result of labour spent—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They that have wrought the end unthought<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Be neither saint nor sage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But men who merely did the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they drew the wage.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wherefore to these the Fates shall bend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(And all old idle things—)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherefore on these shall Power attend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beyond the grasp of kings:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each in his place, by right, not grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall rule his heritage—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The men who simply do the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not such as scorn the loitering street,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or waste to earn its praise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their noontide’s unreturning heat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">About their morning ways:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But such as dower each mortgaged hour<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Alike with clean courage—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even the men who do the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men like to Gods that do the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Begin—continue—close the work<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For which they draw the wage!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_BURIAL">THE BURIAL<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="p0 b1 center smaller"><span class="smcap">C. J. Rhodes</span>, buried in the Matoppos,<br /> -April 10, 1902</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">When</span> that great Kings return to clay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or Emperors in their pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grief of a day shall fill a day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because its creature died.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we—we reckon not with those<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whom the mere Fates ordain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This Power that wrought on us and goes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Back to the Power again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dreamer devout, by vision led<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beyond our guess or reach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The travail of his spirit bred<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cities in place of speech.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So huge the all-mastering thought that drove—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So brief the term allowed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nations, not words, he linked to prove<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His faith before the crowd.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is his will that he look forth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Across the world he won—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The granite of the ancient North—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Great spaces washed with sun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There shall he patient make his seat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(As when the Death he dared),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there await a people’s feet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the paths that he prepared.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There, till the vision he foresaw<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Splendid and whole arise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And unimagined Empires draw<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To council ’neath his skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The immense and brooding Spirit still<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall quicken and control.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Living he was the land, and dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His soul shall be her soul!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="GENERAL_JOUBERT">GENERAL JOUBERT<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="p0 b1 center smaller">(DIED MARCH 27, 1900)</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">With</span> those that bred, with those that loosed the strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He had no part whose hands were clear of gain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But subtle, strong, and stubborn, gave his life<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To a lost cause, and knew the gift was vain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Later shall rise a people, sane and great,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Forged in strong fires, by equal war made one;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Telling old battles over without hate—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not least his name shall pass from sire to son.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He may not meet the onsweep of our van<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the doomed city when we close the score;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet o’er his grave—his grave that holds a man—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our deep-tongued guns shall answer his once more!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_PALACE">THE PALACE<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">When</span> I was a King and a Mason—a Master proven and skilled—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cleared me ground for a palace such as a King should build.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I decreed and dug down to my levels. Presently, under the silt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I came on the wreck of a palace such as a King had built.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was no worth in the fashion—there was no wit in the plan—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hither and thither, aimless, the ruined footings ran—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Masonry, brute, mishandled, but carven on every stone:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘<em>After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known.</em>’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Swift to my use in my trenches, where my well-planned ground-works grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I tumbled his quoins and his ashlars, and cut and reset them anew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lime I milled of the marbles; burned it, slacked it, and spread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Taking and leaving at pleasure the gifts of the humble dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet I despised not nor gloried; yet, as we wrenched them apart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I read in the razed foundations the heart of that builder’s heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As he had risen and pleaded, so did I understand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The form of the dream he had followed in the face of the thing he had planned.<br /></span> -</div> -<div class="tb">* * * * *</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I was a King and a Mason—in the open noon of my pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They sent me a Word from the Darkness—They whispered and called me aside.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They said—‘The end is forbidden.’ They said—‘Thy use is fulfilled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And thy palace shall stand as that other’s—the spoil of a King who shall build.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I called my men from my trenches, my quarries, my wharves, and my shears.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All I had wrought I abandoned to the faith of the faithless years.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only I cut on the timber, only I carved on the stone:<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><em>After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known!</em><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="SUSSEX">SUSSEX<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">God</span> gave all men all earth to love,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But since our hearts are small,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ordained for each one spot should prove<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beloved over all;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That as He watched Creation’s birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So we, in godlike mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May of our love create our earth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And see that it is good.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So one shall Baltic pines content,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As one some Surrey glade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or one the palm-grove’s droned lament<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Before Levuka’s trade.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each to his choice, and I rejoice<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lot has fallen to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a fair ground—in a fair ground—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yea, Sussex by the sea!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No tender-hearted garden crowns,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No bosomed woods adorn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our blunt, bow-headed, whale-backed Downs,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But gnarled and writhen thorn—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bare slopes where chasing shadows skim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And through the gaps revealed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Belt upon belt, the wooded, dim<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blue goodness of the Weald.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Clean of officious fence or hedge,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Half-wild and wholly tame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wise turf cloaks the white cliff edge<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As when the Romans came.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What sign of those that fought and died<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At shift of sword and sword?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The barrow and the camp abide,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sunlight and the sward.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here leaps ashore the full Sou’west<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All heavy-winged with brine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here lies above the folded crest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Channel’s leaden line;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here the sea-fogs lap and cling,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And here, each warning each,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sheep-bells and the ship-bells ring<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Along the hidden beach.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We have no waters to delight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our broad and brookless vales—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only the dewpond on the height<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unfed, that never fails,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whereby no tattered herbage tells<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which way the season flies—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only our close-bit thyme that smells<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like dawn in Paradise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here through the strong unhampered days<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tinkling silence thrills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or little, lost, Down churches praise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lord who made the hills:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But here the Old Gods guard their round,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And, in her secret heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heathen kingdom Wilfrid found<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dreams, as she dwells, apart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though all the rest were all my share,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With equal soul I’d see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her nine-and-thirty sisters fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet none more fair than she.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Choose ye your need from Thames to Tweed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I will choose instead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such lands as lie ’twixt Rake and Rye,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Black Down and Beachy Head.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will go out against the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the rolled scarp retires,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the Long Man of Wilmington<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Looks naked toward the shires;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And east till doubling Rother crawls<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To find the fickle tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By dry and sea-forgotten walls,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our ports of stranded pride.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will go north about the shaws<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the deep ghylls that breed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Huge oaks and old, the which we hold<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No more than ‘Sussex weed’;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or south where windy Piddinghoe’s<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Begilded dolphin veers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And black beside wide-bankèd Ouse<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lie down our Sussex steers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So to the land our hearts we give<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the sure magic strike,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Memory, Use, and Love make live<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Us and our fields alike—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That deeper than our speech and thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beyond our reason’s sway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clay of the pit whence we were wrought<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yearns to its fellow-clay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i0">God gives all men all earth to love,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But since man’s heart is small,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ordains for each one spot shall prove<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beloved over all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each to his choice, and I rejoice<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lot has fallen to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a fair ground—in a fair ground—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yea, Sussex by the sea!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="SONG_OF_THE_WISE_CHILDREN">SONG OF THE WISE CHILDREN<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">When</span> the darkened Fifties dip to the North,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And frost and the fog divide the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the day is dead at his breaking-forth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sirs, it is bitter beneath the Bear!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Far to Southward they wheel and glance,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The million molten spears of morn—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The spears of our deliverance<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That shine on the house where we were born.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Flying-fish about our bows,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flying sea-fires in our wake:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This is the road to our Father’s House,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whither we go for our soul’s sake!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We have forfeited our birthright,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We have forsaken all things meet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We have forgotten the look of light,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We have forgotten the scent of heat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They that walk with shaded brows,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Year by year in a shining land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They be men of our Father’s House,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They shall receive us and understand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We shall go back by boltless doors,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the life unaltered our childhood knew—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the naked feet on the cool, dark floors,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the high-ceiled rooms that the Trade blows through:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To the trumpet-flowers and the moon beyond,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the tree-toad’s chorus drowning all—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the lisp of the split banana-frond<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That talked us to sleep when we were small.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wayside magic, the threshold spells,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall soon undo what the North has done—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because of the sights and the sounds and the smells<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That ran with our youth in the eye of the sun!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And Earth accepting shall ask no vows,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor the Sea our love nor our lover the Sky.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When we return to our Father’s House<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Only the English shall wonder why!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="BUDDHA_AT_KAMAKURA">BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="p0 b1 center smaller">‘<i>And there is a Japanese idol at Kamakura.</i>’</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Oh</span> ye who tread the Narrow Way<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be gentle when the ‘heathen’ pray<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To Buddha at Kamakura!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To him the Way, the Law, Apart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whom Maya held beneath her heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ananda’s Lord the Bodhisat,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Buddha of Kamakura.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For though he neither burns nor sees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor hears ye thank your Deities,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye have not sinned with such as these,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His children at Kamakura;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet spare us still the Western joke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When joss-sticks turn to scented smoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The little sins of little folk<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That worship at Kamakura—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The grey-robed, gay-sashed butterflies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That flit beneath the Master’s eyes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is beyond the Mysteries<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But loves them at Kamakura.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And whoso will, from Pride released,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Contemning neither creed nor priest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May feel the soul of all the East<br /></span> -<span class="i2">About him at Kamakura.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yea, every tale Ananda heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of birth as fish or beast or bird,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While yet in lives the Master stirred,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The warm wind brings Kamakura.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till drowsy eyelids seem to see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-flower ’neath her golden <i>htee</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Shwe-Dagon flare easterly<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From Burmah to Kamakura;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And down the loaded air there comes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thunder of Thibetan drums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And droned—‘<em>Om mane padme oms</em>’—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A world’s width from Kamakura.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet Brahmans rule Benares still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Buddh-Gaya’s ruins pit the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And beef-fed zealots threaten ill<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To Buddha and Kamakura.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A tourist-show, a legend told,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A rusting bulk of bronze and gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So much, and scarce so much, ye hold<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The meaning of Kamakura?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But when the morning prayer is prayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Think, ere ye pass to strife and trade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is God in human image made<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No nearer than Kamakura?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_WHITE_MANS_BURDEN">THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Take</span> up the White Man’s <span class="locked">burden—</span> <br /></span> -<span class="i2">Send forth the best ye breed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go bind your sons to exile<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To serve your captives’ need;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To wait in heavy harness,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On fluttered folk and wild—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your new-caught, sullen peoples,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Half-devil and half-child.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take up the White Man’s burden—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In patience to abide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To veil the threat of terror<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And check the show of pride;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By open speech and simple,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An hundred times made plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To seek another’s profit,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And work another’s gain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take up the White Man’s burden—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The savage wars of peace—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fill full the mouth of Famine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bid the sickness cease;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when your goal is nearest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The end for others sought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watch Sloth and heathen Folly<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bring all your hope to nought.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take up the White Man’s burden—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No tawdry rule of kings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But toil of serf and sweeper—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tale of common things.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ports ye shall not enter,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The roads ye shall not tread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go make them with your living,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And mark them with your dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take up the White Man’s burden—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And reap his old reward:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blame of those ye better,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The hate of those ye guard—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cry of hosts ye humour<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Why brought ye us from bondage,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our loved Egyptian night?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take up the White Man’s burden—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ye dare not stoop to less—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor call too loud on Freedom<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To cloak your weariness;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By all ye cry or whisper,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By all ye leave or do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The silent, sullen peoples<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall weigh your Gods and you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take up the White Man’s burden—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have done with childish days—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lightly proffered laurel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The easy, ungrudged praise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes now, to search your manhood<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through all the thankless years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The judgment of your peers!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="PHARAOH_AND_THE_SERGEANT">PHARAOH AND THE SERGEANT<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span></h2> -</div> - -<blockquote> -<p>‘... Consider that the meritorious services of the -Sergeant Instructors attached to the Egyptian Army have -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.’</p> - -<p class="sigright"><i>Extract from letter.</i></p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Said</span> England unto Pharaoh, ‘I must make a man of you,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That will stand upon his feet and play the game;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That will Maxim his oppressor as a Christian ought to do,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And she sent old Pharaoh Sergeant Whatisname.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It was not a Duke nor Earl, nor yet a <em>Vis</em>count—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">It was not a big brass General that came;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But a man in khaki kit who could handle men a bit,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">With his bedding labelled Sergeant Whatisname.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Said England unto Pharaoh, ‘Though at present singing small,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You shall hum a proper tune before it ends,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she introduced old Pharaoh to the Sergeant once for all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And left ’em in the desert making friends.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It was not a Crystal Palace nor Cathedral;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">It was not a public-house of common fame;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But a piece of red-hot sand, with a palm on either hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And a little hut for Sergeant Whatisname.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Said England unto Pharaoh, ‘You’ve had miracles before,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When Aaron struck your rivers into blood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if you watch the Sergeant he can show you something more,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He’s a charm for making riflemen from mud.’<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It was neither Hindustani, French, nor Coptics;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">It was odds and ends and leavings of the same,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Translated by a stick (which is really half the trick),<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And Pharaoh harked to Sergeant Whatisname.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">(There were years that no one talked of; there were times of horrid doubt—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There was faith and hope and whacking and despair—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the Sergeant gave the Cautions and he combed old Pharaoh out,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And England didn’t seem to know nor care.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That is England’s awful way o’ doing business—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">She would serve her God or Gordon just the same—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For she thinks her Empire still is the Strand and Holborn Hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And she didn’t think of Sergeant Whatisname.)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Said England to the Sergeant, ‘You can let my people go!’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(England used ’em cheap and nasty from the start),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they entered ’em in battle on a most astonished foe—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But the Sergeant he had hardened Pharaoh’s heart<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That was broke, along of all the plagues of Egypt,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Three thousand years before the Sergeant came—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And he mended it again in a little more than ten,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">So Pharaoh fought like Sergeant Whatisname!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was wicked bad campaigning (cheap and nasty from the first),<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There was heat and dust and coolie-work and sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There were vipers, flies, and sandstorms, there was cholera and thirst,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But Pharaoh done the best he ever done.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Down the desert, down the railway, down the river,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Like Israelites from bondage so he came,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">’Tween the clouds o’ dust and fire to the land of his desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And his Moses, it was Sergeant Whatisname!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We are eating dirt in handfuls for to save our daily bread,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which we have to buy from those that hate us most,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we must not raise the money where the Sergeant raised the dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And it’s wrong and bad and dangerous to boast.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But he did it on the cheap and on the quiet,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And he’s not allowed to forward any claim—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Though he drilled a black man white, though he made a mummy fight,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">He will still continue Sergeant Whatisname—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Private, Corporal, Colour-Sergeant, and Instructor—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But the everlasting miracle’s the same!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="OUR_LADY_OF_THE_SNOWS">OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="p0 b1 center smaller">(CANADIAN PREFERENTIAL TARIFF, 1897)</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap ia"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">A Nation</span> spoke to a Nation,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A Queen sent word to a Throne:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Daughter am I in my mother’s house,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But mistress in my own.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gates are mine to open,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the gates are mine to close,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I set my house in order,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Said our Lady of the Snows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Neither with laughter nor weeping,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fear or the child’s amaze—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soberly under the White Man’s law<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My white men go their ways.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not for the Gentiles’ clamour—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Insult or threat of blows—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bow we the knee to Baal,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Said our Lady of the Snows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘My speech is clean and single,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I talk of common things—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Words of the wharf and the market-place<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the ware the merchant brings:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Favour to those I favour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But a stumbling-block to my foes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many there be that hate us,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Said our Lady of the Snows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘I called my chiefs to council<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the din of a troubled year;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the sake of a sign ye would not see,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a word ye would not hear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This is our message and answer;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This is the path we chose:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For we be also a people,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Said our Lady of the Snows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Carry the word to my sisters—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the Queens of the East and the South.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have proven faith in the Heritage<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By more than the word of the mouth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They that are wise may follow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere the world’s war-trumpet blows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I—I am first in the battle,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Said our Lady of the Snows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza italic"> -<span class="i0">A Nation spoke to a Nation,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A Throne sent word to a Throne:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Daughter am I in my mother’s house,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But mistress in my own.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gates are mine to open,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the gates are mine to close,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I abide by my mother’s house,’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Said our Lady of the Snows.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="ET_DONA_FERENTES">‘ET DONA FERENTES’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">In</span> extended observation of the ways and works of man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the Four-mile Radius roughly to the plains of Hindustan:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have drunk with mixed assemblies, seen the racial ruction rise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the men of half creation damning half creation’s eyes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I have watched them in their tantrums, all that pentecostal crew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">French, Italian, Arab, Spaniard, Dutch and Greek, and Russ and Jew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Celt and savage, buff and ochre, cream and yellow, mauve and white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But it never really mattered till the English grew polite;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till the men with polished toppers, till the men in long frock-coats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the men that do not duel, till the men who fight with votes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his grid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Began to ‘beg your pardon’ and—the knowing croupier hid.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then the bandsmen with their fiddles, and the girls that bring the beer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Felt the psychologic moment, left the lit casino clear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the uninstructed alien, from the Teuton to the Gaul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was entrapped, once more, my country, by that suave, deceptive drawl.<br /></span> -</div> - -<div class="tb">* * * * *</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As it was in ancient Suez or ’neath wilder, milder skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ‘observe with apprehension’ when the racial ructions rise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with keener apprehension, if I read the times aright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear the old casino order: ‘Watch your man, but be polite.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Keep your temper. Never answer (<em>that</em> was why they spat and swore).<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t hit first, but move together (there’s no hurry) to the door.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back to back, and facing outward while the linguist tells ’em how—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">"<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Nous sommes allong à notre batteau, nous ne voulong pas un row.</i>"’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So the hard, pent rage ate inward, till some idiot went too far ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let ’em have it!’ and they had it, and the same was serious war.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fist, umbrella, cane, decanter, lamp and beer-mug, chair and boot—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till behind the fleeing legions rose the long, hoarse yell for loot.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then the oil-cloth with its numbers, as a banner fluttered free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then the grand piano cantered, on three castors, down the quay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White, and breathing through their nostrils, silent, systematic, swift—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They removed, effaced, abolished all that man could heave or lift.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, my country, bless the training that from cot to castle runs—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pitfall of the stranger but the bulwark of thy sons—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Measured speech and ordered action, sluggish soul and unperturbed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till we wake our Island-Devil—nowise cool for being curbed!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the heir of all the ages ‘has the honour to remain,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he will not hear an insult, though men make it ne’er so plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When his lips are schooled to meekness, when his back is bowed to blows—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well the keen <em>aas-vogels</em> know it—well the waiting jackal knows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Build on the flanks of Etna where the sullen smoke-puffs float—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or bathe in tropic waters where the lean fin dogs the boat—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cock the gun that is not loaded, cook the frozen dynamite—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh, beware my country, when my country grows polite!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="KITCHENERS_SCHOOL">KITCHENER’S SCHOOL<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span></h2> -</div> - -<blockquote> - -<p><i>Being a translation of the song that was made by a -Mohammedan schoolmaster of Bengal Infantry (some time -on service at Suakim) when he heard that the Sirdar was -taking money from the English to build a Madrissa for -Hubshees—or a college for the Sudanese, 1898.</i></p></blockquote> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Oh</span> Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This is the message of Kitchener who did not break you in jest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was permitted to him to fulfil the long-appointed years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Reaching the end ordained of old over your dead Emirs.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He stamped only before your walls, and the Tomb ye knew was dust:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He gathered up under his armpits all the swords of your trust:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He set a guard on your granaries, securing the weak from the strong:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said:—‘Go work the waterwheels that were abolished so long.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He said:—‘Go safely, being abased. I have accomplished my vow.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That was the mercy of Kitchener. Cometh his madness now!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He does not desire as ye desire, nor devise as ye devise:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is preparing a second host—an army to make you wise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not at the mouth of his clean-lipped guns shall ye learn his name again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But letter by letter, from Kaf to Kaf, at the mouth of his chosen men.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has gone back to his own city, not seeking presents or bribes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But openly asking the English for money to buy you Hakims and scribes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Knowing that ye are forfeit by battle and have no right to live,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He begs for money to bring you learning—and all the English give.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is their treasure—it is their pleasure—thus are their hearts inclined:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Allah created the English mad—the maddest of all mankind!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They do not consider the Meaning of Things; they consult not creed nor clan.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold, they clap the slave on the back, and behold, he ariseth a man!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They terribly carpet the earth with dead, and before their cannon cool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They walk unarmed by twos and threes to call the living to school.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How is this reason (which is their reason) to judge a scholar’s worth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By casting a ball at three straight sticks and defending the same with a fourth?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But this they do (which is doubtless a spell) and other matters more strange,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until, by the operation of years, the hearts of their scholars change:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till these make come and go great boats or engines upon the rail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(But always the English watch near by to prop them when they fail);<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till these make laws of their own choice and Judges of their own blood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the mad English obey the Judges and say that the Law is good.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Certainly they were mad from of old: but I think one new thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the magic whereby they work their magic—wherefrom their fortunes spring—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May be that they show all peoples their magic and ask no price in return.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherefore, since ye are bond to that magic, O Hubshee, make haste and learn!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Certainly also is Kitchener mad. But one sure thing I know—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If he who broke you be minded to teach you, to his Madrissa go!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go, and carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he who did not slay you in sport, he will not teach you in jest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="THE_YOUNG_QUEEN">THE YOUNG QUEEN<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class="p0 b1 smaller center">(<span class="smcap">THE COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA, INAUGURATED -NEW YEAR’S DAY</span> 1901)</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Her</span> hand was still on her sword-hilt, the spur was still on her heel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She had not cast her harness of grey war-dinted steel;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">High on her red-splashed charger, beautiful, bold, and browned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright-eyed out of the battle, the Young Queen rode to be crowned.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She came to the Old Queen’s presence, in the Hall of Our Thousand Years—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the Hall of the Five Free Nations that are peers among their peers:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Royal she gave the greeting, loyal she bowed the head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crying—‘Crown me, my Mother!’ And the Old Queen stood and said:—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘How can I crown thee further? I know whose standard flies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the clean surge takes the Leeuwin or the coral barriers rise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blood of our foes on thy bridle, and speech of our friends in thy mouth—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How can I crown thee further, O Queen of the Sovereign South?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Let the Five Free Nations witness!’ But the Young Queen answered swift:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘It shall be crown of Our crowning to hold Our crown for a gift.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the days when Our folk were feeble thy sword made sure Our lands:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherefore We come in power to take Our crown at thy hands.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the Old Queen raised and kissed her, and the jealous circlet prest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roped with the pearls of the Northland and red with the gold of the West,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lit with her land’s own opals, levin-hearted, alive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the Five-starred Cross above them, for sign of the Nations Five.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So it was done in the Presence—in the Hall of Our Thousand Years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the face of the Five Free Nations that have no peer but their peers;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the Young Queen out of the Southland kneeled down at the Old Queen’s knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And asked for a mother’s blessing on the excellent years to be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the Old Queen stooped in the stillness where the jewelled head drooped low:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Daughter no more but Sister, and doubly Daughter so—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mother of many princes—and child of the child I bore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What good thing shall I wish thee that I have not wished before?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Shall I give thee delight in dominion—mere pride of thy setting forth?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, we be women together—we know what that lust is worth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Peace in thy utmost borders, and strength on a road untrod?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are dealt or diminished at the secret will of God.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘I have swayed troublous councils, I am wise in terrible things;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Father and son and grandson, I have known the heart of the Kings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall I give thee my sleepless wisdom, or the gift all wisdom above?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ay, we be women together—I give thee thy people’s love:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Tempered, august, abiding, reluctant of prayers or vows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eager in face of peril as thine for thy mother’s house.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God requite thee, my Sister, through the wonderful years to be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And make thy people to love thee as thou hast loved me!’<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> -<hr /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 id="RIMMON">RIMMON<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poem-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza drop-cap"> -<span class="i0x"><span class="smcap1">Duly</span> with knees that feign to quake—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bent head and shaded brow,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet once again, for my father’s sake,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In Rimmon’s House I bow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The curtains part, and the trumpet blares,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the eunuchs howl aloud;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the gilt, swag-bellied idol glares<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Insolent over the crowd.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘<em>This is Rimmon, Lord of the Earth—</em><br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘<em>Fear Him and bow the knee!</em>’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I watch my comrades hide their mirth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That rode to the wars with me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For we remember the sun and the sand<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the rocks whereon we trod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere we came to a scorched and a scornful land<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That did not know our God;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As we remember the sacrifice<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dead men an hundred laid—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slain while they served His mysteries<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And that He would not aid.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not though we gashed ourselves and wept,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the high-priest bade us wait;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saying He went on a journey or slept,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or was drunk or had taken a mate.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">(<em>Praise ye Rimmon, King of Kings,</em><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><em>Who ruleth Earth and Sky!</em><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And again I bow as the censer swings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the God Enthroned goes by.)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ay, we remember His sacred ark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the virtuous men that knelt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the dark and the hush behind the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wherein we dreamed He dwelt;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Until we entered to hale Him out,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And found no more than an old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Uncleanly image girded about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The loins with scarlet and gold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Him we o’erset with the butts of our spears—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Him and His vast designs—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be the scorn of our muleteers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the jest of our halted lines.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By the picket-pins that the dogs defile,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the dung and the dust He lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the priests ran and chattered awhile<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And wiped Him and took Him away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hushing the matter before it was known,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They returned to our fathers afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hastily set Him afresh on His throne<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because He had won us the war.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wherefore with knees that feign to quake—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bent head and shaded brow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To this dead dog, for my father’s sake,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In Rimmon’s House I bow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="p4 center smaller vspace"><span class="bt">Printed by T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to His Majesty</span><br /> -at the Edinburgh University Press</p> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="transnote"> -<h2 class="nobreak p1" id="Transcribers_Notes">Transcriber’s Notes</h2> - -<p>Transcriber remedied a missing left parenthesis.</p> - -<p>The text contains many unbalanced single quotation marks. This appears -to have been done deliberately.</p> -</div></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Five Nations, Volume I (of 2), by -Rudyard Kipling - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIVE NATIONS, VOLUME I (OF 2) *** - -***** This file should be named 60260-h.htm or 60260-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/2/6/60260/ - -Produced by deaurider and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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