Rudyard Kipling

LISPETH. Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are theseYou bid me please?The Three in One, the One in Three? Not so!To my own Gods I go.It may be they shall give me greater easeThan your cold Christ and tangled Trinities. The Convert. She was the daughter of Sonoo, a Hill-man, and Jadeh his wife. One year their maize failed, and two bears spent the night in their only poppy-field just above the... more...

THE EDUCATION OF OTIS YEEREIIn the pleasant orchard-closes'God bless all our gains,' say we;But 'May God bless all our losses,'Better suits with our degree.The Lost Bower. This is the history of a failure; but the woman who failed said that it might be an instructive tale to put into print for the benefit of the younger generation. The younger generation does not want instruction,... more...

With the Night Mail At nine o'clock of a gusty winter night I stood on the lower stages of one of the G. P. O. outward mail towers. My purpose was a run to Quebec in "Postal Packet 162 or such other as may be appointed"; and the Postmaster-General himself countersigned the order. This talisman opened all doors, even those in the despatching-caisson at the foot of the tower, where they... more...

INTRODUCTION Mr. Kipling’s brilliant reconstruction of the genesis of the ‘Tempest’ may remind us how often that play has excited the creative fancy of its readers. It has given rise to many imitations, adaptations, and sequels. Fletcher copied its storm, its desert island, and its woman who had never seen a man. Suckling borrowed its spirits. Davenant and Dryden added a man who had never seen a... more...

THE PHANTOM 'RICKSHAW May no ill dreams disturb my rest,Nor Powers of Darkness me molest.—Evening Hymn. One of the few advantages that India has over England is a great Knowability. After five years' service a man is directly or indirectly acquainted with the two or three hundred Civilians in his Province, all the Messes of ten or twelve Regiments and Batteries, and some fifteen hundred... more...

Hunting.Certes it is a noble sportAnd men have quitted selle and swum for't,But I am of a meeker sortAnd I prefer Surtees in comfort.Reach down my "Handley Cross" again.My run, where never danger lurks, isWith Jorrocks and his deathless trainPigg, Binjimin and Arterxerxes! January. Most men harry the world for fun—Each man seeks it a different wayBut "of all daft devils under the... more...

BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS AND OTHER VERSES 1889-1891TO WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled —Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled —Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world. They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of... more...

CHAPTER I The weather door of the smoking-room had been left open to the North Atlantic fog, as the big liner rolled and lifted, whistling to warn the fishing-fleet. "That Cheyne boy's the biggest nuisance aboard," said a man in a frieze overcoat, shutting the door with a bang. "He isn't wanted here. He's too fresh." A white-haired German reached for a sandwich, and... more...

POOR DEAR MAMMA The wild hawk to the wind-swept sky, The deer to the wholesome wold, And the heart of a man to the heart of a maid, As it was in the days of old. Gypsy Song. SCENE.—Interior of Miss MINNIE THREEGAN'S Bedroom at Simla. Miss THREEGAN, in window-seat, turning over a drawerful of things. Miss EMMA DEERCOURT, bosom—friend, who has come to spend the day, sitting on the bed,... more...

WITH THE MAIN GUARDDer jungere UhlanenSit round mit open mouthWhile Breitmann tell dem stdoriesOf fightin' in the South;Und gif dem moral lessons,How before der battle pops,Take a little prayer to HimmelUnd a goot long drink of Schnapps. Hans Breitmann's Ballads. 'Mary, Mother av Mercy, fwhat the divil possist us to take an' kape this melancolious counthry? Answer me that,... more...