Poet Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling Poems

  • 451.  
    The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' stone;
    'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is own;'E keeps 'is side-arms awful: 'e leaves 'em all about,
  • 452.  
    1914-18

  • 453.  
    "An Unqualified Pilot"

  • 454.  
    King Solomon drew merchantmen,
    Because of his desireFor peacocks, apes, and ivory,
  • 455.  
    Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
    Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her.Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
  • 456.  
    Oh gallant was our galley from her caren steering-wheel
    To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered steel;The leg-bar chafed the ankle and we gasped for cooler air,
  • 457.  
    On the reassembling of Parliament after the Coronation, the Government have no intention of allowing their followers to vote according to their convictions on the Declaration of London, but insist on a strictly party vote.-- Daily Papers

  • 458.  
    This is the midnight-let no star
    Delude us-dawn is very far.This is the tempest long foretold-
  • 459.  
    It was our war-ship Clampherdown
    Would sweep the Channel clean,Wherefore she kept her hatches close
  • 460.  
    After the sack of the City when Rome was sunk to a name,
    In the years that the lights were darkened, or ever St. Wilfridcame,
  • 461.  
    The Word came down to Dives in Torment where he lay:
    'Our World is full of wickedness, My Children maim and slay,'And the Saint and Seer and Prophet
  • 462.  
    So we settled it all when the storm was done
    As comfy as comfy could be; And I was to wait in the barn, my dears,
  • 463.  
    There's a Legion that never was 'listed,
    That carries no colours or crest,But, split in a thousand detachments,
  • 464.  
    I have made for you a song,
    And it may be right or wrong, But only you can tell me if it's true;
  • 465.  
    Files
    The Files -Office Files !
  • 466.  
    There´s no wind along these seas,
    Out oars for Stavanger!Forward all for Stavanger!
  • 467.  
    When you've shouted ' Rule Britannia,' when you've sung ' God save the Queen,'
    When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth,Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine
  • 468.  
    These are the Four that are never content, that have never be
    filled since the Dews began--Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the Kite, and the hands of the
  • 469.  
    Napoleonic

  • 470.  
    Over the edge of the purple down,
    Where the single lamplight gleams,Know ye the road to the Merciful Town
  • 471.  
    Love's fiery chariot, Delia, take
    Which Vulcan wrought for Venus' sake.Wings shall not waft thee, but a flame
  • 472.  
    Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled --
    Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled --Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.
  • 473.  
    Fair is our lot -- O goodly is our heritage!
    (Humble ye, my people, and be fearful in your mirth!)For the Lord our God Most High
  • 474.  
    The overfaithful sword returns the user
    His heart's desire at price of his heart's blood.The clamour of the arrogant accuser
  • 475.  
    Twelve hundred million men are spread
    About this Earth, and I and YouWonder, when You and I are dead,
  • 476.  
    Too late, alas! the song
    To remedy the wrong; - The rooms are taken from us, swept and
  • 477.  
    I am the land of their fathers,
    In me the virtue stays.I will bring back my children,
  • 478.  
    Horace, BK. V. Ode 20.

  • 479.  
    England's on the anvil--hear the hammers ring--
    Clanging from the Severn to the Tyne!Never was a blacksmith like our Norman King--
  • 480.  
    There were three friends that buried the fourth,
    The mould in his mouth and the dust in his eyes, And they went south and east and north-
  • 481.  
    This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
    Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne, Who harried the district of Alalone:
  • 482.  
    When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald,
    In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-field,He called to him Hobdenius-a Briton of the Clay,
  • 483.  
    When the earth was sick and the skies were grey,
    And the woods were rotted with rain,The Dead Man rode through the autumn day
  • 484.  
    Alone upon the housetops to the North
    I turn and watch the lightnings in the sky--The glamour of thy footsteps in the North.
  • 485.  
    1899-1902 -- Boer War

  • 486.  
    Dawn off the Foreland -- the young flood making
    Jumbled and short and steep -- Black in the hollows and bright where it's breaking --
  • 487.  
    Until thy feet have trod the Road
    Advise not wayside folk,Nor till thy back has borne the Load
  • 488.  
    Circa 1904 -- Done out of Boethius by Geoffrey Chaucer

  • 489.  
    Since ye distemper and defile
    Sweet Here by the measured mile,Nor aught on jocund highways heed
  • 490.  
    Hear now the Song of the Dead -- in the North by the torn berg-edges --
    They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide-stripped sledges. Song of the Dead in the South -- in the sun by their skeleton horses,
  • 491.  
    Eyes of grey -- a sodden quay,
    Driving rain and falling tears,As the steamer wears to sea
  • 492.  
    Not many years ago a King died in one of the Rajpoot States.
    His wives, disregarding the orders of the English against Suttee, would have broken out of the palace had not the gates been barred.
  • 493.  
    Our King went forth on pilgrimage
    His prayers and vows to payTo them that saved our heritage
  • 494.  
    After His Realms and States were moved
    To bare their hearts to the King they loved, Tendering themselves in homage and devotion,
  • 495.  
    Now the new year reviving old desires,
    The restless soul to open sea aspires,Where the Blue Peter flickers from the fore,
  • 496.  
    1916

  • 497.  
    1898

  • 498.  
    How shall she know the worship we would do her?
    The walls are high, and she is very far.How shall the woman's message reach unto her
  • 499.  
    Who gives him the Bath?
    "I," said the wet,Rank-Jungle-sweat,
  • 500.  
    ~And reports the derelict ~Mary Pollock~ still at sea.~
    SHIPPING NEWS.
Total 550 poems written by Rudyard Kipling

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Walt Whitman Poem
World, Take Good Notice
 by Walt Whitman

WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading,
Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching,
Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning,
Scarlet, significant, hands off warning,
Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores.



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