The Complete Poems of Rudyard Kipling – 570+ Titles in One Edition. Rudyard 1865-1936 Kipling

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damp;

       And the City and the Viceroy, as we see,

       Don't agree.

      Once, two hundred years ago, the trader came

       Meek and tame.

      Where his timid foot first halted, there he stayed,

       Till mere trade

       Grew to Empire, and he sent his armies forth

       South and North

       Till the country from Peshawur to Ceylon

       Was his own.

      Thus the midday halt of Charnock—more's the pity!

       Grew a City.

      As the fungus sprouts chaotic from its bed,

       So it spread—

       Chance-directed, chance-erected, laid and built

       On the silt—

       Palace, byre, hovel—poverty and pride—

       Side by side;

       And, above the packed and pestilential town,

       Death looked down.

      But the Rulers in that City by the Sea

       Turned to flee—

       Fled, with each returning spring-tide from its ills

       To the Hills.

      From the clammy fogs of morning, from the blaze

       Of old days,

       From the sickness of the noontide, from the heat,

       Beat retreat;

       For the country from Peshawur to Ceylon

       Was their own.

      But the Merchant risked the perils of the Plain

       For his gain.

      Now the resting-place of Charnock, 'neath the palms,

       Asks an alms,

       And the burden of its lamentation is,

       Briefly, this:

       "Because for certain months, we boil and stew,

       So should you.

      Cast the Viceroy and his Council, to perspire

       In our fire!"

       And for answer to the argument, in vain

       We explain

       That an amateur Saint Lawrence cannot fry:

       "All must fry!"

       That the Merchant risks the perils of the Plain

       For gain.

      Nor can Rulers rule a house that men grow rich in,

       From its kitchen.

      Let the Babu drop inflammatory hints

       In his prints;

       And mature—consistent soul—his plan for stealing

       To Darjeeling:

       Let the Merchant seek, who makes his silver pile,

       England's isle;

       Let the City Charnock pitched on—evil day!

       Go Her way.

      Though the argosies of Asia at Her doors

       Heap their stores,

       Though Her enterprise and energy secure

       Income sure,

       Though "out-station orders punctually obeyed"

       Swell Her trade—

       Still, for rule, administration, and the rest,

       Simla's best.

      Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads

       Table of Contents

       The Ballad of East and West

       The Last Suttee

       The Ballad of the King's Mercy

       The Ballad of the King's Jest

       The Ballad of Boh Da Thone

       The Lament of the Border Cattle Thief

       The Rhyme of the Three Captains

       The Ballad of the Clampherdown

       The Ballad of the "Bolivar"

       The English Flag

       An Imperial Rescript

       Tomlinson

       Barrack-Room Ballads

       Tommy

       Soldier, Soldier

       Screw-Guns

       Gunga Din

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