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They shall not wake, though fair the vision seem: Whate'er sick Hope may whisper, vain the dream!
_Lang._
CXXIII
MOTHER AND SON
It is not yours, O mother, to complain, Not, mother, yours to weep, Though nevermore your son again Shall to your bosom creep, Though nevermore again you watch your baby sleep.
Though in the greener paths of earth Mother and child, no more We wander; and no more the birth Of me whom once you bore, Seems still the brave reward that once it seemed of yore;
Though as all pa.s.ses, day and night, The seasons and the years, From you, O mother, this delight, This also disappears-- Some profit yet survives of all your pangs and tears.
The child, the seed, the grain of corn, The acorn on the hill, Each for some separate end is born In season fit, and still Each must in strength arise to work the Almighty will.
So from the hearth the children flee, By that Almighty hand Austerely led; so one by sea Goes forth, and one by land; Nor aught of all men's sons escapes from that command.
So from the sally each obeys The unseen Almighty nod; So till the ending all their ways Blind-folded loth have trod: Nor knew their task at all, but were the tools of G.o.d.
And as the fervent smith of yore Beat out the glowing blade, Nor wielded in the front of war The weapons that he made, But in the tower at home still plied his ringing trade;
So like a sword the son shall roam On n.o.bler missions sent; And as the smith remained at home In peaceful turret pent, So sits the while at home the mother well content.
_Stevenson._
CXXIV
PRAYERS
G.o.d who created me Nimble and light of limb, In three elements free, To run, to ride, to swim: Not when the sense is dim, But now from the heart of joy, I would remember Him: Take the thanks of a boy.
Jesu, King and Lord, Whose are my foes to fight, Gird me with Thy sword Swift and sharp and bright.
Thee would I serve if I might; And conquer if I can, From day-dawn till night, Take the strength of a man.
Spirit of Love and Truth, Breathing in grosser clay, The light and flame of youth, Delight of men in the fray, Wisdom in strength's decay; From pain, strife, wrong to be free This best gift I pray, Take my spirit to Thee.
_Beeching._
CXXV
A BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST
Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border side, And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the Colonel's pride: He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day, And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away.
Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides: 'Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?'
Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of the Ressaldar, 'If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are.
At dusk he harries the Abazai--at dawn he is into Bonair-- But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare, So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly, By the favour of G.o.d ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai.
But if he be pa.s.sed the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then, For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain are sown with Kamal's men.'
The Colonel's son has taken a horse, and a raw rough dun was he, With the mouth of a bell and the heart of h.e.l.l and the head of the gallows-tree.
The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat-- Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat.
He's up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly, Till he was aware of his father's mare in the gut of the Tongue of Jagai, Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal upon her back, And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack.
He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide.
'Ye shoot like a soldier,' Kamal said. 'Show now if ye can ride.'
It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust-devils go, The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe.
The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above, But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars as a lady plays with a glove.
They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn, The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new-roused fawn.
The dun he fell at a water-course--in a woful heap fell he,-- And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free.
He has knocked the pistol out of his hand--small room was there to strive-- ''Twas only by favour of mine,' quoth he, 'ye rode so long alive; There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree, But covered a man of my own men with his rifle c.o.c.ked on his knee.
If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low, The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row; If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high, The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly.'
Lightly answered the Colonel's son:--'Do good to bird and beast, But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast.
If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away, Belike the price of a jackal's meal were more than a thief could pay.
They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain, The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain.
But if thou thinkest the price be fair, and thy brethren wait to sup, The hound is kin to the jackal-sp.a.w.n,--howl, dog, and call them up!
And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer and gear and stack, Give me my father's mare again, and I'll fight my own way back!'
Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet.
'No talk shall be of dogs,' said he, 'when wolf and grey wolf meet.
May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath.
What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death?'
Lightly answered the Colonel's son:--'I hold by the blood of my clan; Take up the mare for my father's gift--By G.o.d she has carried a man!'
The red mare ran to the Colonel's son, and nuzzled her nose in his breast, 'We be two strong men,' said Kamal then, 'but she loveth the younger best.
So she shall go with a lifter's dower, my turquoise studded rein, My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver stirrups twain.'
The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it muzzle-end, 'Ye have taken the one from a foe,' said he; 'will ye take the mate from a friend?'
'A gift for a gift,' said Kamal straight; 'a limb for the risk of a limb.
Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him!'
With that he whistled his only son, who dropped from a mountain-crest-- He trod the ling like a buck in spring and he looked like a lance in rest.
'Now here is thy master,' Kamal said, 'who leads a troop of the Guides, And thou must ride at his left side as s.h.i.+eld to shoulder rides.
Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed, Thy life is his--thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.
And thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine, And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the Border-line, And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power-- Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur.'
They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault, They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt; They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod, On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of G.o.d.
The Colonel's son he rides the mare and Kamal's boy the dun, And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one.
And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear-- There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer.
'Ha' done! ha' done!' said the Colonel's son. 'Put up the steel at your sides!
Last night ye had struck at a Border thief--to-night 'tis a man of the Guides!'
Oh, east is east, and west is west, and never the two shall meet Till earth and sky stand presently at G.o.d's great Judgment Seat.
But there is neither east nor west, border or breed or birth, When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth.
_Kipling._