Kipling Stories and Poems Every Child Should Know Part 10

III

THE ENGLISH FLAG

Above the portico the Union Jack remained fluttering in the flames for some time, but ultimately when it fell the crowds rent the air with shouts, and seemed to see significance in the incident.--_Daily Papers._

Winds of the World, give answer? They are whimpering to and fro-- And what should they know of England who only England know?-- The poor little street-bred people that vapour and fume and brag, They are lifting their heads in the stillness to yelp at the English Flag!

Must we borrow a clout from the Boer--to plaster anew with dirt?

An Irish liar's bandage, or an English coward's s.h.i.+rt?

We may not speak of England; her Flag's to sell or share.

What is the Flag of England? Winds of the World, declare!

The North Wind blew:--"From Bergen my steel-shod vanguards go; I chase your lazy whalers home from the Disko floe; By the great North Lights above me I work the will of G.o.d, That the liner splits on the ice-field or the Dogger fills with cod.

"I barred my gates with iron, I shuttered my doors with flame, Because to force my ramparts your nutsh.e.l.l navies came; I took the sun from their presence, I cut them down with my blast, And they died, but the Flag of England blew free ere the spirit pa.s.sed.

"The lean white bear hath seen it in the long, long Arctic night, The musk-ox knows the standard that flouts the Northern Light: What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my bergs to dare, Ye have but my drifts to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!"

The South Wind sighed:--"From The Virgins my mid-sea course was ta'en Over a thousand islands lost in an idle main, Where the sea-egg flames on the coral and the long-backed breakers croon Their endless ocean legends to the lazy, locked lagoon.

"Strayed amid lonely islets, mazed amid outer keys, I waked the palms to laughter--I tossed the scud in the breeze-- Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone, But over the scud and the palm-trees an English flag was flown.

"I have wrenched it free from the halliard, to hang for a wisp on the Horn; I have chased it north to the Lizard--ribboned and rolled and torn; I have spread its fold o'er the dying, adrift in a hopeless sea; I have hurled it swift on the slaver, and seen the slave set free.

"My basking sunfish know it, and wheeling albatross, Where the lone wave fills with fire beneath the Southern Cross.

What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my reefs to dare, Ye have but my seas to furrow. Go forth, for it is there!"

The East Wind roared:--"From the Kuriles, the Bitter Seas, I come, And me men call the Home-Wind, for I bring the English home.

Look--look well to your s.h.i.+pping! By the breath of my mad typhoon I swept your close-packed Praya and beached your best at Kowloon!

"The reeling junks behind me and the racing seas before, I raped your richest roadstead--I plundered Singapore!

I set my hand on the Hoogli; as a hooded snake she rose, And I flung your stoutest steamers to roost with the startled crows.

"Never the lotos closes, never the wild-fowl wake, But a soul goes out on the East Wind that died for England's sake-- Man or woman or suckling, mother or bride or maid-- Because on the bones of the English the English Flag is stayed.

"The desert-dust hath dimmed it, the flying wild-a.s.s knows.

The scared white leopard winds it across the taint-less snows.

What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my sun to dare, Ye have but my sands to travel. Go forth, for it is there!"

The West Wind called:--"In squadrons the thoughtless galleons fly That bear the wheat and cattle lest street-bred people die.

They make my might their porter, they make my house their path, Till I loose my neck from their rudder and whelm them all in my wrath.

"I draw the gliding fog-bank as a snake is drawn from the hole; They bellow one to the other, the frightened s.h.i.+p-bells toll, For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud with my breath, And they see strange bows above them and the two go locked to death.

"But whether in calm or wrack-wreath, whether by dark or day, I heave them whole to the conger or rip their plates away, First of the scattered legions, under a shrieking sky, Dipping between the rollers, the English Flag goes by.

"The dead dumb fog hath wrapped it--the frozen dews have kissed-- The naked stars have seen it, a fellow-star in the mist.

What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my breath to dare, Ye have but my waves to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!"

IV

THE KING

"Farewell, Romance!" the Cave-men said; "With bone well carved he went away; Flint arms the ign.o.ble arrowhead, And jasper tips the spear to-day.

Changed are the G.o.ds of Hunt and Dance, And he with these. Farewell, Romance!"

"Farewell, Romance!" the Lake-folk sighed; "We lift the weight of flatling years; The caverns of the mountain side Hold him who scorns our hutted piers.

Lost hills whereby we dare not dwell, Guard ye his rest. Romance, farewell!"

"Farewell, Romance!" the Soldier spoke; "By sleight of sword we may not win, But scuffle 'mid uncleanly smoke Of arquebus and culverin.

Honour is lost, and none may tell Who paid good blows. Romance, farewell!"

"Farewell, Romance!" the Traders cried; "Our keels ha' lain with every sea; The dull-returning wind and tide Heave up the wharf where we would be; The known and noted breezes swell Our trudging sail. Romance, farewell!"

"Good-bye, Romance!" the Skipper said; "He vanished with the coal we burn; Our dial marks full steam ahead.

Our speed is timed to half a turn.

Sure as the tidal trains we ply 'Twixt port and port. Romance, good-bye!"

"Romance!" the Season-tickets mourn, "_He_ never ran to catch his train, But pa.s.sed with coach and guard and horn-- And left the local--late again!

Confound Romance!" ... And all unseen Romance brought up the nine-fifteen.

His hand was on the lever laid, His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks, His whistle waked the snow-bound grade, His fog-horn cut the reeking Banks; In dock and deep and mine and mill The Boy-G.o.d reckless laboured still.

Robed, crowned and throned, he wove his spell, Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke curled With unconsidered miracle, Hedged in a backward-gazing world: Then taught his chosen bard to say: "The King was with us--yesterday!"

V

TO THE UNKNOWN G.o.dDESS

Will you conquer my heart with your beauty, my soul going out from afar?

Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautious _s.h.i.+kar_?

Have I met you and pa.s.sed you already, unknowing, unthinking, and blind Shall I meet you next session at Simla, oh, sweetest and best of your kind?

Ah, G.o.ddess! child, spinster, or widow--as of old on Mars Hill when they raised To the G.o.d that they knew not an altar--so I, a young Pagan, have praised.

The G.o.ddess I know not nor wors.h.i.+p; yet if half that men tell me be true, You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you.