by Rudyard Kipling
Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea: 'Ere's September come again, the six-year men are free. O leave the dead be'ind us, for they cannot come away To where the ship's a-coalin' up that takes us 'ome to-day.… Read the rest
Category: Rudyard Kipling
Two Kopjes
by Rudyard Kipling
Only two African kopjes, Only the cart-tracks that wind Empty and open between 'em, Only the Transvaal behind; Only an Aldershot column Marching to conquer the land . . . Only a sudden and solemn Visit, unarmed,… Read the rest
Two Months
by Rudyard Kipling
June No hope, no change! The clouds have shut us in, And through the cloud the sullen Sun strikes down Full on the bosom of the tortured Town, Till Night falls heavy as remembered sin That will… Read the rest
Two Races (Brazilian Verses)
by Rudyard Kipling
I seek not what his soul desires. He dreads not what my spirit fears. Our Heavens have shown us separate fires. Our dooms have dealt us differing years. Our daysprings and our timeless dead Ordained for us… Read the rest
Ubique
by Rudyard Kipling
There is a word you often see, pronounce it as you may You bike, you bykwee, ubbikwe , alludin to R.A. It serves Orse, Field, an Garrison as motto for a crest, An when youve found out… Read the rest
Ulster
by Rudyard Kipling
The dark eleventh hour Draws on and sees us sold To every evil power We fought against of old. Rebellion, rapine hate Oppression, wrong and greed Are loosed to rule our fate, By England's act and deed.… Read the rest
Toomai Of The Elephants
by Rudyard Kipling
I will remember what I was. I am sick of rope and chain, I will remember my old strength and all my forest-affairs. I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugarcane. I… Read the rest
To T. A.
by Rudyard Kipling
I have made for you a song, And it may be right or wrong, But only you can tell me if it's true; I have tried for to explain Both your pleasure and your pain, And, Thomas,… Read the rest
To The City Of Bombay
by Rudyard Kipling
The Cities are full of pride, Challenging each to each, This from her mountain-side, That from her burdened beach. They count their ships full tale, Their corn and oil and wine, Derrick and loom and bale, And… Read the rest
To the Companions
by Rudyard Kipling
How comes it that, at even-tide, When level beams should show most truth, Man, failing, takes unfailing pride In memories of his frolic youth? Venus and Liber fill their hour; The games engage, the law-courts prove; Till… Read the rest