The Complete Poetical Works of Rudyard Kipling - Rudyard Kipling

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raised

       To the God that they knew not an altar—so I, a young Pagan, have praised

       The Goddess I know not nor worship; yet, if half that men tell me be true,

       You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you.

       Table of Contents

      [Allowing for the difference 'twixt prose and rhymed exaggeration, this ought

       to reproduce the sense of what Sir A— told the nation sometime ago, when the

       Government struck from our incomes two per cent.]

      Now the New Year, reviving last Year's Debt,

       The Thoughtful Fisher casteth wide his Net;

       So I with begging Dish and ready Tongue

       Assail all Men for all that I can get.

      Imports indeed are gone with all their Dues—

       Lo! Salt a Lever that I dare not use,

       Nor may I ask the Tillers in Bengal—

       Surely my Kith and Kin will not refuse!

      Pay—and I promise by the Dust of Spring,

       Retrenchment. If my promises can bring

       Comfort, Ye have Them now a thousandfold—

       By Allah! I will promise Anything!

      Indeed, indeed, Retrenchment oft before

       I swore—but did I mean it when I swore?

       And then, and then, We wandered to the Hills,

       And so the Little Less became Much More.

      Whether a Boileaugunge or Babylon,

       I know not how the wretched Thing is done,

       The Items of Receipt grow surely small;

       The Items of Expense mount one by one.

      I cannot help it. What have I to do

       With One and Five, or Four, or Three, or Two?

       Let Scribes spit Blood and Sulphur as they please,

       Or Statesmen call me foolish—Heed not you.

      Behold, I promise—Anything You will.

       Behold, I greet you with an empty Till—

       Ah! Fellow-Sinners, of your Charity

       Seek not the Reason of the Dearth, but fill.

      For if I sinned and fell, where lies the Gain

       Of Knowledge? Would it ease you of your Pain

       To know the tangled Threads of Revenue,

       I ravel deeper in a hopeless Skein?

      "Who hath not Prudence"—what was it I said,

       Of Her who paints her Eyes and tires Her Head,

       And gibes and mocks the People in the Street,

       And fawns upon them for Her thriftless Bread?

      Accursed is She of Eve's daughters—She

       Hath cast off Prudence, and Her End shall be

       Destruction... Brethren, of your Bounty

       Some portion of your daily Bread to Me.

       Table of Contents

      A much-discerning Public hold

       The Singer generally sings

       And prints and sells his past for gold.

      Whatever I may here disclaim,

       The very clever folk I sing to

       Will most indubitably cling to

       Their pet delusion, just the same.

      I had seen, as the dawn was breaking

       And I staggered to my rest,

       Tari Devi softly shaking

       From the Cart Road to the crest.

      I had seen the spurs of Jakko

       Heave and quiver, swell and sink.

       Was it Earthquake or tobacco,

       Day of Doom, or Night of Drink?

      In the full, fresh fragrant morning

       I observed a camel crawl,

       Laws of gravitation scorning,

       On the ceiling and the wall;

       Then I watched a fender walking,

       And I heard grey leeches sing,

       And a red-hot monkey talking

       Did not seem the proper thing.

      Then a Creature, skinned and crimson,

       Ran about the floor and cried,

       And they said that I had the "jims" on,

       And they dosed me with bromide,

       And they locked me in my bedroom—

       Me and one wee Blood Red Mouse—

       Though I said: "To give my head room

       You had best unroof the house."

      But my words were all unheeded,

       Though I told the grave M.D.

       That the treatment really needed

       Was a dip in open sea

       That was lapping just below me,

       Smooth as silver, white as snow,

       And it took three men to throw me

       When I found I could not go.

      Half the night I watched the Heavens

       Fizz like '81 champagne—

       Fly to sixes and to sevens,

       Wheel and thunder back again;

       And when all was peace and order

       Save one planet nailed askew,

       Much I wept because my warder

       Would not let me set it true.

      After frenzied hours of waiting,

       When the Earth and Skies were dumb,

       Pealed an awful voice dictating

       An interminable sum,

       Changing to a tangle story—

       "What she said you said I said"—

       Till the Moon arose in glory,

       And I found her... in my head;

      Then a Face came, blind and weeping,

       And It couldn't wipe its eyes,

       And It muttered I was keeping

       Back the moonlight from the skies;

       So I patted it for pity,

       But it whistled shrill with wrath,

       And a huge black Devil City

       Poured its peoples on my path.

      So I fled with steps uncertain

       On a thousand-year long race,

       But the bellying of the curtain

       Kept me always in one place;

       While the tumult rose and maddened

       To the roar of Earth on fire,

      

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