112. Mowgli's Song 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 Frog!
He ate and he drank. Drink deep, Shere Khan, for when wilt thou drink again? Sleep and dream of the kill.
113. Chapter Headings Plain Tales From the Hills
Look, you have cast out Love! What Gods are these
114. The Mary Gloster I've paid for your sickest fancies; I've humoured your crackedest whim,
Dick, it's your daddy, dying; you've got to listen to him!
Good for a fortnight, am I? The doctor told you? He lied.
115. The Day's Work We now, held in captivity,
Spring to our bondage nor grieve,
See now, how it is blesseder,
118. A Truthful Song THE BRICKLAYER:
I tell this tale, which is strictly true,
119. Together Where Horse and Rider each can trust the other everywhere,
It takes a fence and more than a fence to pound that happy pair; For the one will do what the other demands, although he is beaten and blown,
120. A Translation There are whose study is of smells,
And to attentive schools rehearse
How something mixed with something else
121. Kaa's Hunting His spots are the joy of the Leopard: his horns are the Buffalo's pride.
Be clean, for the strength of the hunter is known by the gloss of his hide.
If ye find that the bullock can toss you, or the heavy-browed Sambhur can gore;
122. "birds Of Prey" March 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
123. A Song Of The White Men Now, this is the cup the White Men drink
When they go to right a wrong,
And that is the cup of the old world's hate,
124. Tiger - Tiger! What of the hunting, hunter bold?
Brother, the watch was long and cold.
What of the quarry ye went to kill?
125. The Old Men This is our lot if we live so long and labour unto the end,
Then we outlive the impatient years and the much too patient friend:
And because we know we have breath in our mouth and think we have thoughts enough in our head,
126. The Quesion Brethren, how shall it fare with me
When the war is laid aside,
If it be proven that I am he
127. The Ballad Of 'bolivar' 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,
128. L'envoi To "life's Handicap" My new-cut ashlar takes the light
Where crimson-blank the windows flare;
By my own work, before the night,
129. A Tale Of Two Cities Where the sober-colored cultivator smiles
On his byles;
Where the cholera, the cyclone, and the crow
130. The Ballad Of Jakko Hill One moment bid the horses wait,
Since tiffin is not laid till three,
Below the upward path and straight
131. A Song At Cock-crow The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,
But followed far off to see what they would do,
132. The Bees And The Flies "The Mother Hive", Actions and Reactions
A Farmer of the Augustan Age
Perused in Virgil's golden page
133. Song Of The Men's Side Once we feared The Beast when he followed us we ran,
Ran very fast though we knew
It was not right that The Beast should master Man;
135. The Female Of The Specie When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
137. The Song Of Seven Cities I was Lord of Cities very sumptuously builded.
Seven roaring Cities paid me tribute from far.
Ivory their outposts were,the guardrooms of them gilded,
138. The Ballad Of The King's Jest When spring-time flushes the desert grass,
Our kafilas wind through the Khyber Pass.
Lean are the camels but fat the frails,
139. Big Steamers "Oh, where are you going to, all you Big Steamers,
With England's own coal, up and down the salt seas?"
"We are going to fetch you your bread and your butter,
140. The Ballad Of The King's Mercy Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told.
His mercy fills the Khyber hills, his grace is manifold;
He has taken toll of the North and the South, his glory reacheth far,
141. The Man Who Could Write Shun -- shun the Bowl! That fatal, facile drink
Has ruined many geese who dipped their quills in 't;Bribe, murder, marry, but steer clear of Ink
142. The Songs Of The Lathes The fans and the beltings they roar round me.
The power is shaking the floor round meTill the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over.
143. The Song Of The Old Guard Know this, my brethren, Heaven is clear
And all the clouds are gone--The Proper Sort shall flourish now,
144. The Ballad Of Bolivar 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 --
146. The Song Of The Sons One from the ends of the earth -- gifts at an open door --
Treason has much, but we, Mother, thy sons have more!From the whine of a dying man, from the snarl of a wolf-pack freed,
I have forgotten the words,
and therefore I shall not conceive
of a mysterious salvation, I shall
not become a tall lily and bloom
into blue and white. Then what
oracular event shall appear on
my doorstep? What announcement
shall crowd me to a corner,
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