Car poems
/ page 566 of 738 /
The Broken Men
© Rudyard Kipling
For things we never mention,
For Art misunderstood --
For excellent intention
That did not turn to good;
The Lady of the Lake: Canto IV. - The Prophecy
© Sir Walter Scott
Ellen.
'Well, be it as thou wilt;
I hear, But cannot stop the bursting tear.'
The Minstrel tried his simple art,
Rut distant far was Ellen's heart.
Impromptu
© Alfred Austin
Tell me your race, your name,
O Lady limned as dead, yet as when living fair!
"Birds of Prey" March
© Rudyard Kipling
March! The mud is cakin' good about our trousies.
Front! -- eyes front, an' watch the Colour-casin's drip.
Front! The faces of the women in the 'ouses
Ain't the kind o' things to take aboard the ship.
Bill 'Awkins
© Rudyard Kipling
"'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now 'ow in the devil would I know?"
"'E's taken my girl out walkin',
An' I've got to tell 'im so --
Gawd -- bless 'im!
I've got to tell 'im so."
Harpalus. An Ancient English Pastoral
© Henry Howard
Phylida was a faire mayde,
As fresh as any flowre;
Whom Harpalus the herdman prayde
To be his paramour.
The Bell Buoy
© Rudyard Kipling
1896
They christened my brother of old--
And a saintly name he bears--
They gave him his place to hold
The Bees and the Flies
© Rudyard Kipling
The egregious rustic put to death
A bull by stopping of its breath,
Disposed the carcass in a shed
With fragrant herbs and branches spread,
And, having well performed the charm,
Sat down to wait the promised swarm.
My After-Dinner Cloud
© Henry Sambrooke Leigh
Some sombre evening, when I sit
And feed in solitude at home,
Perchance an ultra-bilious fit
Paints all the world an orange chrome.
Beast and Man in India
© Rudyard Kipling
Written for John Lockwood Kipling's
They killed a Child to please the Gods
In Earth's young penitence,
And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.
Banquet Night
© Rudyard Kipling
"ONCE in so often," King Solomon said,
Watching his quarrymen drill the stone,
"We will curb our garlic and wine and bread
And banquet together beneath my Throne,
And all Brethren shall come to that mess
As Fellow-Craftsmen-no more and no less."
The Ballad of the King's Jest
© Rudyard Kipling
When spring-time flushes the desert grass,
Our kafilas wind through the Khyber Pass.
Lean are the camels but fat the frails,
Light are the purses but heavy the bales,
The Ballad of Fisher's Boarding-House
© Rudyard Kipling
'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house,
Where sailor-men reside,
And there were men of all the ports
From Mississip to Clyde,
And regally they spat and smoked,
And fearsomely they lied.
The Ballad of East and West
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!
A Ballad of Burial
© Rudyard Kipling
("Saint Proxed's ever was the Church for peace")
If down here I chance to die,
Solemnly I beg you take
All that is left of "I"
Breitmann As A Bummer
© Charles Godfrey Leland
DER SHENERAL SHERMAN holts oop on his coorse,
He shtops at de gross-road und reins in his horse.
"Dere's a ford on de rifer dis day we moost dake,
Or elshe de grand army in bieces shall preak!"
The Ballad of the "Bolivar"
© Rudyard Kipling
Seven men from all the world, back to Docks again,
Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:
Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away --
We that took the Bolivar out across the Bay!
As the Bell Clinks
© Rudyard Kipling
As I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a comely
Maid last season worshipped dumbly, watched with fervor from afar;
And I wondered idly, blindly, if the maid would greet me kindly.
That was all -- the rest was settled by the clinking tonga-bar.
Yea, my life and hers were coupled by the tonga coupling-bar.
Arithmetic on the Frontier
© Rudyard Kipling
A great and glorious thing it is
To learn, for seven years or so,
The Lord knows what of that and this,
Ere reckoned fit to face the foe --
The flying bullet down the Pass,
That whistles clear: "All flesh is grass."
