Songs from Books by Rudyard Kipling

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S'posing you could trot from Adelaide to the Pacific,
For an afternoon's run--half what these gentlemen did--
You would feel rather hot, but your legs would develop terrific--
Yes, my importunate son, you'd be a Marvellous Kid!

_The Sing-Song of Old Man Kangaroo._

I've never sailed the Amazon,
I've never reached Brazil;
But the _Don_ and _Magdalena_,
They can go there when they will!

Yes, weekly from Southampton,
Great steamers, white and gold,
Go rolling down to Rio
(Roll down--roll down to Rio!).
And I'd like to roll to Rio
Some day before I'm old!

I've never seen a Jaguar,
Nor yet an Armadill--
O dilloing in his armour,
And I s'pose I never will,

Unless I go to Rio
These wonders to behold--
Roll down--roll down to Rio--
Roll really down to Rio!
Oh, I'd love to roll to Rio
Some day before I'm old!

_The Beginning of the Armadilloes._

China-going P. and O.'s
Pass Pau Amma's playground close,
And his Pusat Tasek lies
Near the track of most B.I.'s.
N.Y.K. and N.D.L.
Know Pau Amma's home as well
As the Fisher of the Sea knows
'Bens,' M.M.'s, and Rubattinos.
But (and this is rather queer)
A.T.L.'s can _not_ come here;
O. and O. and D.O.A.
Must go round another way.
Orient, Anchor, Bibby, Hall,
Never go that way at all.
U.C.S. would have a fit
If it found itself on it.
And if 'Beavers' took their cargoes
To Penang instead of Lagos,
Or a fat Shaw-Savill bore
Passengers to Singapore,
Or a White Star were to try a
Little trip to Sourabaya,
Or a B.S.A. went on
Past Natal to Cheribon,
Then great Mr. Lloyds would come
With a wire and drag them home!

* * * * *

You'll know what my riddle means
When you've eaten mangosteens.

_The Crab that Played with the Sea._

Pussy can sit by the fire and sing,
Pussy can climb a tree,
Or play with a silly old cork and string
To 'muse herself, not me.
But _I_ like _Binkie_ my dog, because
He knows how to behave;
So, _Binkie's_ the same as the First Friend was,
And I am the Man in the Cave!

Pussy will play man-Friday till
It's time to wet her paw
And make her walk on the window-sill
(For the footprint Crusoe saw);
Then she fluffles her tail and mews,
And scratches and won't attend.
But _Binkie_ will play whatever I choose,
And he is my true First Friend!

Pussy will rub my knees with her head
Pretending she loves me hard;
But the very minute I go to my bed
Pussy runs out in the yard,
And there she stays till the morning-light;
So I know it is only pretend;
But _Binkie_, he snores at my feet all night,
And he is my Firstest Friend!

_The Cat that Walked by Himself_

There was never a Queen like Balkis,
From here to the wide world's end;
But Balkis talked to a butterfly
As you would talk to a friend.

There was never a King like Solomon,
Not since the world began;
But Solomon talked to a butterfly
As a man would talk to a man.

_She_ was Queen of Sabaea--
And _he_ was Asia's Lord--
But they both of 'em talked to butterflies
When they took their walks abroad!

_The Butterfly that Stamped._

THE LOOKING-GLASS

_(A Country Dance)_

_Queen Bess was Harry's daughter. Stand forward partners all!
She danced King Philip down-a down,
And left her shoe to show 'twas true--
(The very tune I'm playing you)
In Norgem at Brickwall!_

The Queen was in her chamber, and she was middling old,
Her petticoat was satin, and her stomacher was gold.
Backwards and forwards and sideways did she pass,
Making up her mind to face the cruel looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As comely or as kindly or as young as what she was!

_Queen Bess was Harry's daughter. Now hand your partners all!_
The Queen was in her chamber, a-combing of her hair.
There came Queen Mary's spirit and It stood behind her chair.
Singing, 'Backwards and forwards and sideways may you pass,
But I will stand behind you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As lovely or unlucky or as lonely as I was!'

_Queen Bess was Harry's daughter.--Now turn your partners all!_
The Queen was in her chamber, a-weeping very sore.
There came Lord Leicester's spirit and It scratched upon the door,
Singing, 'Backwards and forwards and sideways may you pass,
But I will walk beside you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As hard and unforgiving or as wicked as you was!'

_Queen Bess was Harry's daughter. Now kiss your
partners all!_

The Queen was in her chamber; her sins were on her head.
She looked the spirits up and down and statelily she said:--
Backwards and forwards and sideways though I've been,
Yet I am Harry's daughter and I am England's Queen!'
And she faced the looking-glass (and whatever else there was),
And she saw her day was over and she saw her beauty pass
In the cruel looking-glass, that can always hurt a lass
More hard than any ghost there is or any man there was!

THE QUEEN'S MEN

Valour and Innocence
Have latterly gone hence
To certain death by certain shame attended.
Envy--ah! even to tears!--
The fortune of their years
Which, though so few, yet so divinely ended.

Scarce had they lifted up
Life's full and fiery cup,
Than they had set it down untouched before them.
Before their day arose
They beckoned it to close--
Close in confusion and destruction o'er them.

They did not stay to ask
What prize should crown their task,
Well sure that prize was such as no man strives for;
But passed into eclipse,
Her kiss upon their lips--
Even Belphoebe's, whom they gave their lives for!

THE CITY OF SLEEP

Over the edge of the purple down,
Where the single lamplight gleams.
Know ye the road to the Merciful Town
That is hard by the Sea of Dreams--
Where the poor may lay their wrongs away,
And the sick may forget to-weep?
But we--pity us! Oh, pity us!
We wakeful; ah, pity us!--
We must go back with Policeman Day--
Back from the City of Sleep!

Weary they turn from the scroll and crown,
Fetter and prayer and plough--
They that go up to the Merciful Town,
For her gates are closing now.
It is their right in the Baths of Night
Body and soul to steep,
But we--pity us! ah, pity us!
We wakeful; oh, pity us!--
We must go back with Policeman Day--
Back from the City of Sleep!

Over the edge of the purple down,
Ere the tender dreams begin,
Look--we may look--at the Merciful Towns
But we may not enter in!
Outcasts all, from her guarded wall
Back to our watch we creep:
We--pity us! ah, pity us!
We wakeful; oh, pity us!--
We that go back with Policeman Day--
Back from the City of Sleep!

THE WIDOWER

For a season there must be pain--
For a little, little space
I shall lose the sight of her face,
Take back the old life again
While She is at rest in her place.

For a season this pain must endure--
For a little, little while
I shall sigh more often than smile,
Till Time shall work me a cure,
And the pitiful days beguile.

For that season we must be apart,
For a little length of years,
Till my life's last hour nears,
And, above the beat of my heart,
I hear Her voice in my ears.

But I shall not understand--
Being set on some later love,
Shall not know her for whom I strove,
Till she reach me forth her hand,
Saying, 'Who but I have the right?'
And out of a troubled night
Shall draw me safe to the land.

THE PRAYER OF MIRIAM COHEN

From the wheel and the drift of Things
Deliver us, Good Lord,
And we will face the wrath of Kings,
The faggot and the sword!

Lay not Thy Works before our eyes,
Nor vex us with Thy Wars,
Lest we should feel the straining skies
O'ertrod by trampling stars.

Hold us secure behind the gates
Of saving flesh and bone,
Lest we should dream what dream awaits
The soul escaped alone.

Thy Path, Thy Purposes conceal
From our beleaguered realm,
Lest any shattering whisper steal
Upon us and o'erwhelm.

A veil 'twixt us and Thee, Good Lord,
A veil 'twixt us and Thee,
Lest we should hear too clear, too clear,
And unto madness see!

THE SONG OF THE LITTLE HUNTER

Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry,
Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer,
Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh--
He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear!
Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade,
And the whisper spreads and widens far and near.
And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now--
He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear!

Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks are ribbed with light,
When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear,

Comes a breathing hard behind thee--_snuffle-snuffle_ through the night--
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!
On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go;
In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear!
But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy cheek--
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered pine-trees fall,
When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer,
Through the war-gongs of the thunder rings a voice more loud than all--
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!
Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless boulders leap--
Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear--
But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against thy side
Hammers: Fear, O Little Hunter--this is Fear!

GOW'S WATCH

ACT II. SCENE 2

_The pavilion in the Gardens. Enter Ferdinand and the King_

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

_The King_. A young wing yet.
Bold--overbold on the perch, but, think you,
Ferdinand,
He can endure the tall skies yonder? Cozen
Advantage out of the teeth of the hurricane?
Choose his own mate against the lammer-geier?
Ride out a night-long tempest, hold his pitch
Between the lightning and the cloud it leaps from,
Never too pressed to kill?

_Ferdinand_. I'll answer for him.
Bating all parable, I know the Prince.
There's a bleak devil in the young, my Lord;
God put it there to save 'em from their elders
And break their father's heart, but bear them scatheless
Through mire and thorns and blood if need be.
Think
What our prime saw! Such glory, such achievements
As now our children, wondering at, examine
Themselves to see if they shall hardly equal.
But what cared we while we wrought the wonders?
Nothing!
The rampant deed contented.

_The King_. Little enough, God knows! But afterwards? After--
There comes the reckoning. I would save him that.

_Ferdinand_. Save him dry scars that ache of winter-nights.
Worn out self-pity and as much of knowledge
As makes old men fear judgment? Then loose him--loose him,
A' God's name loose him to adventure early!
And trust some random pike, or half-backed horse,
Besides what's caught in Italy, to save him.

_The King_. I know. I know. And yet
... What stirs in the garden?

_Enter Gow and a Gardener bearing the Prince's body_

_Ferdinand_.(Gods give me patience!) Gow and a gardener
Bearing some load along in the dusk to the dunghill.
Nay--a dead branch--But as I said, the Prince----

_The King. _They've set it down. Strange that
they work so late.

_Gow (setting down the body)_. Heark, you unsanctified
fool, while I set out our story. We found it, this side
the North park wall which it had climbed to pluck
nectarines from the alley. Heark again! There
was a nectarine in its hand when we found it, and
the naughty brick that slipped from the coping
beneath its foot and so caused its death, lies now
under the wall for the King to see.

_The King (above)_. The King to see! Why should
he? Who's the man?

_Gow_. That is your tale. Swerve from it by so
much as the breadth of my dagger and here's your
instant reward. You heard not, saw not, and by the
Horns of ninefold-cuckolded Jupiter you thought not
nor dreamed not anything more or other!

_The King_. Ninefold-cuckolded Jupiter. That's a
rare oath! Shall we look closer?

_Ferdinand_. Not yet, my Lord! (I cannot hear him
breathe.)

_Gardener_. The North park wall? It was so.
Plucking nectarines. It shall be. But how shall
I say if any ask why our Lady the Queen--

_Gow (stabs him)_. Thus! Hie after the Prince
and tell him y'are the first fruits of his nectarine
tree. Bleed there behind the laurels.

_The King_. Why did Gow buffet the clown?
What said he? I'll go look.

_Ferdinand (above)_. Save yourself! It is the
King!

_Enter the King and Ferdinand to Gow_

_Gow_. God save you! This was the Prince!

_The King_. The Prince! Not a dead branch?
(_Uncovers the face_.)
My flesh and blood! My son! my son! my son!

_Ferdinand_ (_to Gow_). I had feared something of
this. And that fool yonder?

_Gow_. Dead, or as good. He cannot speak.

_Ferdinand_. Better so.

_The King_. 'Loosed to adventure early!' Tell
the tale.

_Gow_. Saddest truth alack! I came upon him
not a half hour since, fallen from the North park
wall over against the Deerpark side--dead--dead!--a
nectarine in his hand that the dear lad must have
climbed for, and plucked the very instant, look you,
that a brick slipped on the coping. 'Tis there now.
So I lifted him, but his neck was as you see--and
already cold.

_The King_. Oh, very cold. But why should he
have troubled to climb? He was free of all the
fruit in my garden, God knows!... What, Gow?

_Gow_. Surely, God knows!

_The King_. A lad's trick. But I love him the
better for it.... True, he's past loving.... And
now we must tell our Queen. What a coil at the
day's end! She'll grieve for him. Not as I shall;
Ferdinand, but as youth for youth. They were
much of the same age. Playmate for playmate.
See, he wears her colours. That is the knot she
gave him last--last.... Oh God! When was
yesterday?

_Ferdinand_. Come in! Come in, my Lord.
There's a dew falling.

_The King_. He'll take no harm of it. I'll follow presently.....
He's all his mother's now and none of mine--
Her very face on the bride-pillow. Yet I tricked her.
But that was later--and she never guessed.
I do not think he sinned much--he's too young--
Much the same age as my Queen. God must not judge him
Too hardly for such slips as youth may fall in.
But I'll entreat that Throne.

(_Prays by the body._)

_Gow_. The Heavens hold up still. Earth opens
not and this dew's mere water. What shall a man
think of it all? _(To Gardener.)_ Not dead yet,
sirrah? I bade you follow the Prince. Despatch!

_Gardener_. Some kind soul pluck out the dagger.
Why did you slay me? I'd done no wrong. I'd ha'
kept it secret till my dying day. But not now--not
now! I'm dying. The Prince fell from the Queen's
chamber window. I saw it in the nut alley. He
was----

_Ferdinand_. But what made you in the nut alley
at that hour?

_Gardener_. No wrong. No more than another
man's wife. Jocasta of the still-room. She'd kissed
me good-night too; but that's over with the
rest.... I've stumbled on the Prince's beastly
loves, and I pay for all. Let me pass!

_Gow_. Count it your fortune, honest man. You
would have revealed it to your woman at the next
meeting. You fleshmongers are all one feather.
_(Plucks out the dagger.)_
Go in peace and lay your death to Fortune's door.
He's sped--thank Fortune!

_Ferdinand_. Who knows not Fortune, glutted on
easy thrones,
Stealing from feasts as rare to coney-catch
Privily in the hedgerows for a clown.
With that same cruel-lustful hand and eye,
Those nails and wedges, that one hammer and lead,
And the very gerb of long-stored lightning loosed.
Yesterday 'gainst some King.

_The King_. I have pursued with prayers where my heart warns me
My soul shall overtake--

_Enter the Queen_

_The King_. Look not! Wait till I tell you,
dearest.... Air!...
'Loosed to adventure early'
... I go late. _(Dies.)_

_Gow_. So! God hath cut off the Prince in his
pleasures. Gow, to save the King, hath silenced one
poor fool who knew how it befell, and now the
King's dead, needs only that the Queen should kill
Gow and all's safe for her this side o' the Judgment.
...Senor Ferdinand, the wind's easterly. I'm for
the road.

_Ferdinand_. My horse is at the gate. God speed
you. Whither?

_Gow_. To the Duke, if the Queen does not lay
hands on me before. However it goes, I charge you
bear witness, Senor Ferdinand, I served the old
King faithfully. To the death, Senor Ferdinand--to
the death!

THE WISHING CAPS

Life's all getting and giving.
I've only myself to give.
What shall I do for a living?
I've only one life to live.
End it? I'll not find another.
Spend it? But how shall I best?
Sure the wise plan is to live like a man
And Luck may look after the rest!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
Give or hold at your will.
If I've no care for Fortune,
Fortune must follow me still.

Bad Luck, she is never a lady,
But the commonest wench on the street,
Shuffling, shabby and shady,
Shameless to pass or meet.
Walk with her once--it's a weakness!
Talk to her twice--it's a crime!
Thrust her away when she gives you 'good day,'
And the besom won't board you next time.
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
What is Your Ladyship's mood?
If I've no care for Fortune,
My Fortune is bound to be good!

Good Luck, she is never a lady,
But the cursedest quean alive!
Tricksey, wincing and jady,
Kittle to lead or drive.
Greet her--she's hailing a stranger!
Meet her--she's busking to leave.
Let her alone for a shrew to the bone,
And the hussy comes plucking your sleeve!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
I'll neither follow nor flee.
If I don't run after Fortune,
Fortune must run after me!

'BY THE HOOF OF THE WILD GOAT'

By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed
From the cliff where she lay in the Sun
Fell the Stone
To the Tarn where the daylight is lost,
So she fell from the light of the Sun
And alone!

Now the fall was ordained from the first
With the Goat and the Cliff and the Tarn,
But the Stone
Knows only her life is accursed
As she sinks from the light of the Sun
And alone!

Oh Thou Who has builded the World,
Oh Thou Who has lighted the Sun,
Oh Thou Who has darkened the Tarn,
Judge Thou
The sin of the Stone that was hurled
By the goat from the light of the Sun,
As she sinks in the mire of the Tarn,
Even now--even now--even now!

SONG OF THE RED WAR-BOAT

(A.D. 683)

Shove off from the wharf-edge! Steady!
Watch for a smooth! Give way!
If she feels the lop already
She'll stand on her head in the bay.
It's ebb--it's dusk--it's blowing.
The shoals are a mile of white.
But (snatch her along!) we're going
To find our master to-night.

_For we hold that in all disaster
Of shipwreck, storm, or sword,
A Man must stand by his Master
When once he has pledged his word._

Raging seas have we rowed in,
But we seldom saw them thus;
Our master is angry with Odin--
Odin is angry with us!
Heavy odds have we taken,
But never before such odds.
The Gods know they are forsaken,
We must risk the wrath of the Gods!

Over the crest she flies from,
Into its hollow she drops,
Cringes and clears her eyes from
The wind-torn breaker-tops,
Ere out on the shrieking shoulder
Of a hill-high surge she drives.
Meet her! Meet her and hold her!
Pull for your scoundrel lives!

The thunders bellow and clamour
The harm that they mean to do!
There goes Thor's own Hammer
Cracking the dark in two!
Close! But the blow has missed her,
Here comes the wind of the blow!
Row or the squall'll twist her
Broadside on to it!--_Row!_

Heark 'ee, Thor of the Thunder!
We are not here for a jest--
For wager, warfare, or plunder,
Or to put your power to test.
This work is none of our wishing--
We would house at home if we might--
But our master is wrecked out fishing.
We go to find him to-night.

_For we hold that in all disaster--
As the Gods Themselves have said--
A Man must stand by his Master
Till one of the two is dead._

That is our way of thinking,
Now you can do as you will,
While we try to save her from sinking
And hold her head to it still.
Bale her and keep her moving,
Or she'll break her back in the trough....
Who said the weather's improving,
Or the swells are taking off?

Sodden, and chafed and aching,
Gone in the loins and knees--
No matter--the day is breaking,
And there's far less weight to the seas!
Up mast, and finish baling--
In oars, and out with the mead--
The rest will be two-reef sailing....
That was a night indeed!

_But we hold that in all disaster
(And faith, we have found it true!)
If only you stand by your master,
The Gods will stand by you!_

MORNING SONG IN THE JUNGLE

One moment past our bodies cast
No shadow on the plain;
Now clear and black they stride our track,
And we run home again.
In morning hush, each rock and bush
Stands hard, and high, and raw:
Then give the Call: '_Good rest to all_
_That keep the Jungle Law!'_

Now horn and pelt our peoples melt
In covert to abide;
Now, crouched and still, to cave and hill
Our Jungle Barons glide.
Now, stark and plain, Man's oxen strain,
That draw the new-yoked plough;
Now, stripped and dread, the dawn is red
Above the lit _talao_.

Ho! Get to lair! The sun's aflare
Behind the breathing grass:
And creaking through the young bamboo
The warning whispers pass.
By day made strange, the woods we range
With blinking eyes we scan;
While down the skies the wild duck cries:
'_The Day--the Day to Man!_'

The dew is dried that drenched our hide,
Or washed about our way;
And where we drank, the puddled bank
Is crisping into clay.
The traitor Dark gives up each mark
Of stretched or hooded claw;
Then hear the Call: '_Good rest to all
That keep the Jungle Law!_'

BLUE ROSES

Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies--
Bade me gather her blue roses.

Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew;
Half the world unto my quest
Answered me with laugh and jest.

Home I came at wintertide,
But my silly love had died,
Seeking with her latest breath
Roses from the arms of Death.

It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Mine was but an idle quest--
Roses white and red are best.

A RIPPLE SONG

Once a ripple came to land
In the golden sunset burning--
Lapped against a maiden's hand,
By the ford returning.

_Dainty foot and gentle breast--
Here, across, be glad and rest.
'Maiden, wait,' the ripple saith;
'Wait awhile, for I am Death!'_

'Where my lover calls I go--
Shame it were to treat him coldly--
'Twas a fish that circled so,
Turning over boldly.'

_Dainty foot and tender heart,
Wait the loaded ferry-cart.
'Wait, ah, wait!' the ripple saith;
'Maiden, wait, for I am Death!'_

'When my lover calls I haste--
Dame Disdain was never wedded!'
Ripple-ripple round her waist,
Clear the current eddied.

_Foolish heart and faithful hand,
Little feet that touched no land.
Far away the ripple sped,
Ripple--ripple--running red!_

BUTTERFLIES

Eyes aloft, over dangerous places,
The children follow the butterflies,
And, in the sweat of their upturned faces,
Slash with a net at the empty skies.

So it goes they fall amid brambles,
And sting their toes on the nettle-tops,
Till, after a thousand scratches and scrambles,
They wipe their brows and the hunting stops.

Then to quiet them comes their father
And stills the riot of pain and grief,
Saying, 'Little ones, go and gather
Out of my garden a cabbage-leaf.

'You will find on it whorls and clots of
Dull grey eggs that, properly fed,
Turn, by way of the worm, to lots of
Glorious butterflies raised from the dead...,'

'Heaven is beautiful, Earth is ugly,'
The three-dimensioned preacher saith,
So we must not look where the snail and the slug lie
For Psyche's birth.... And that is our death!

MY LADY'S LAW

The Law whereby my lady moves
Was never Law to me,
But 'tis enough that she approves
Whatever Law it be.

For in that Law, and by that Law,
My constant course I'll steer;
Not that I heed or deem it dread,
But that she holds it dear.

Tho' Asia sent for my content
Her richest argosies,
Those would I spurn, and bid return,
If that should give her ease.

With equal heart I'd watch depart
Each spiced sail from sight,
Sans bitterness, desiring less
Great gear than her delight.

Though Kings made swift with many a gift
My proven sword to hire,
I would not go nor serve 'em so,
Except at her desire.

With even mind, I'd put behind
Adventure and acclaim,
And clean give o'er, esteeming more
Her favour than my fame.

Yet such am I, yea such am I--
Sore bond and freest free,
The Law that sways my lady's ways
Is mystery to me!

THE NURSING SISTER

_(Maternity Hospital)_

Our sister sayeth such and such.
And we must bow to her behests;
Our sister toileth overmuch,
Our little maid that hath no breasts.

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