KAA
Anger is the egg of Fear-- Only lidless eyes are clear.
Cobra-poison none may leech, Even so with Cobra-speech.
Open talk shall call to thee Strength, whose mate is Courtesy.
Send no lunge beyond thy length; Lend no rotten bough thy strength.
Gauge thy gape with buck or goat, Lest thine eye should choke thy throat After gorging, wouldst thou sleep?
Look thy den be hid and deep, Lest a wrong, by thee forgot, Draw thy killer to the spot.
East and West and North and South, Wash thy hide and close thy mouth.
(Pit and rift and blue pool-brim, Middle-Jungle follow him!) _Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, Jungle-Favour go with thee!_
BAGHEERA
In the cage my life began; Well I know the worth of Man.
By the Broken Lock that freed-- Man-cub, "ware the Man-cub"s breed!
Scenting-dew or starlight pale, Choose no tangled tree-cat trail.
Pack or council, hunt or den, Cry no truce with Jackal-Men.
Feed them silence when they say: "Come with us an easy way."
Feed them silence when they seek Help of thine to hurt the weak.
Make no _bandar"s_ boast of skill; Hold thy peace above the kill.
Let nor call nor song nor sign Turn thee from thy hunting-line.
(Morning mist or twilight clear, Serve him, Wardens of the Deer!) _Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, Jungle-Favour go with thee!_
THE THREE
_On the trail that thou must tread To the thresholds of our dread, Where the Flower blossoms red; Through the nights when thou shalt lie Prisoned from our Mother-sky, Hearing us, thy loves, go by; In the dawns when thou shalt wake To the toil thou canst not break, Heartsick for the Jungle"s sake: Wood and Water, Wind and Tree, Wisdom, Strength, and Courtesy, Jungle-Favour go with thee!_
HARP SONG OF THE DANE WOMEN
What is a woman that you forsake her, And the hearth-fire and the home-acre, To go with the old grey Widow-maker?
She has no house to lay a guest in-- But one chill bed for all to rest in, That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in.
She has no strong white arms to fold you, But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you-- Out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you.
Yet, when the signs of summer thicken, And the ice breaks, and the birch-buds quicken, Yearly you turn from our side, and sicken--
Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters.
You steal away to the lapping waters, And look at your ship in her winter quarters.
You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables, The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables-- To pitch her sides and go over her cables.
Then you drive out where the storm-clouds swallow, And the sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow.
Is all we have left through the months to follow.
Ah, what is Woman that you forsake her, And the hearth-fire and the home-acre, To go with the old grey Widow-maker?
THE THOUSANDTH MAN
One man in a thousand, Solomon says, Will stick more close than a brother.
And it"s worth while seeking him half your days If you find him before the other.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend On what the world sees in you, But the Thousandth Man will stand your friend With the whole round world agin you.
"Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show Will settle the finding for "ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of "em go By your looks or your acts or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him, The rest of the world don"t matter; For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim With you in any water.
You can use his purse with no more talk Than he uses yours for his spendings, And laugh and meet in your daily walk As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of "em call For silver and gold in their dealings; But the Thousandth Man he"s worth "em all.
Because you can show him your feelings.
His wrong"s your wrong, and his right"s your right, In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men"s sight-- With _that_ for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can"t bide The shame or mocking or laughter, But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side To the gallows-foot--and after!
THE WINNERS
What is the moral? Who rides may read.
When the night is thick and the tracks are blind A friend at a pinch is a friend indeed, But a fool to wait for the laggard behind.
Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone.
White hands cling to the tightened rein, Slipping the spur from the booted heel, Tenderest voices cry "Turn again,"
Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel, High hopes faint on a warm hearth stone-- He travels the fastest who travels alone.
One may fall but he falls by himself-- Falls by himself with himself to blame, One may attain and to him is pelf, Loot of the city in Gold or Fame.
Plunder of earth shall be all his own Who travels the fastest and travels alone.
Wherefore the more ye be holpen and stayed, Stayed by a friend in the hour of toil, Sing the heretical song I have made-- His be the labour and yours be the spoil, Win by his aid and the aid disown-- He travels the fastest who travels alone!
A ST. HELENA LULLABY