Poems begining by M
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My Boat Swings Out And Back
© Robert Laurence Binyon
My boat swings out and back,
Moored among mint and rush.
The river's ruffled speed
Laughs in the white wind's track.
My idle fingers crush
A crinkled, scented reed.
My Rival
© Rudyard Kipling
I go to concert, party, ball --
What profit is in these?
I sit alone against the wall
And strive to look at ease.
My New-Cut Ashler
© Rudyard Kipling
My New-Cut ashlar takes the light
Where crimson-blank the windows flare.
By my own work before the night,
Great Overseer, I make my prayer.
My Lady's Law
© Rudyard Kipling
The Law whereby my lady moves
Was never Law to me,
But 'tis enough that she approves
Whatever Law it be.
My Boy Jack
© Rudyard Kipling
1914-18
Have you news of my boy Jack?"
Not this tide.
"When d'you think that he'll come back?"
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
Mulholland's Contract
© Rudyard Kipling
The fear was on the cattle, for the gale was on the sea,
An' the pens broke up on the lower deck an' let the creatures free --
An' the lights went out on the lower deck, an' no one near but me.
Mowgli's Song Against People
© Rudyard Kipling
I will let loose against you the fleet-footed vines--
I will call in the Jungle to stamp out your lines!
The roofs shall fade before it,
The house-beams shall fall;
And the Karela,. the bitter Karela,
Shall cover it all!
Mowgli's Song
© Rudyard Kipling
The Song of Mowgli -- I, Mowgli, am singing. Let
the jungle listen to the things I have done.
Shere Khan said he would kill -- would kill! At the
gates in the twilight he would kill Mowgli, the
Mother o' Mine
© Rudyard Kipling
If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
Morning Song in the Jungle
© Rudyard Kipling
One moment past our bodies cast
No shadow on the plain;
Now clear and black they stride our track,
And we run home again.
Mine Sweepers
© Rudyard Kipling
Dawn off the Foreland--the young flood making
Jumbled and short and steep--
Black in the hollows and bright where it's breaking--
Awkward water to sweep.
Mesopotamia
© Rudyard Kipling
1917They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young,
The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave:
But the men who left them thriftily to die in their own dung,
Shall they come with years and honour to the grave?
Merrow Down
© Rudyard Kipling
There runs a road by Merrow Down--
A grassy track to-day it is--
An hour out Guildford town,
Above the river Wey it is.
Mary's Son
© Rudyard Kipling
If you stop to find out what your wages will be
And how they will clothe and feed you,
Willie, my son, don't you go on the Sea.
For the Sea will never need you.
Mary, Pity Women!
© Rudyard Kipling
Nice while it lasted, an' now it is over --
Tear out your 'eart an' good-bye to you lover!
What's the use o' grievin', when the mother that bore you
(Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you?
Many Inventions
© Rudyard Kipling
'Less you want your toes trod of you'd better get back at once,
For the bullocks are walking two by two,
The byles are walking two by two,
And the elephants bring the guns.
Mandalay
© Rudyard Kipling
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
