Kipling Stories and Poems Every Child Should Know Part 8

VII

THE SMOKE UPON YOUR ALTAR DIES

(_To whom it may concern._)

The smoke upon your Altar dies, The flowers decay, The G.o.ddess of your sacrifice Has flown away.

What profit, then, to sing or slay The sacrifice from day to day?

"We know the Shrine is void," they said, "The G.o.ddess flown-- Yet wreaths are on the Altar laid-- The Altar-Stone Is black with fumes of sacrifice, Albeit She has fled our eyes.

"For it may be, if still we sing And tend the Shrine, Some Deity on wandering wing May there incline; And, finding all in order meet, Stay while we wors.h.i.+p at Her feet."

VIII

RECESSIONAL

The Recessional is one of the most popular poems of this century. It is a warning to age and a nation drunk with power, a rebuke to materialistic tendencies and boastfulness, a protest against pride.

"Reverence is the master-key of knowledge."

G.o.d of our fathers, known of old-- Lord of our far-flung battle-line-- Beneath whose awful Hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine-- Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet Lest we forget--lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies-- The captains and the kings depart-- Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart.

Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!

Far-called our navies melt away-- On dune and headland sinks the fire-- Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!

Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-- Such boasting as the Gentiles use Or lesser breeds without the Law-- Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard-- All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard-- For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen.

IX

L'ENVOI

When Earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried, When the oldest colours have faded, and the youngest critic has died, We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it--lie down for an aeon or two, Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work anew!

And those who were good shall be happy: they shall sit in a golden chair; They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comet's hair; They shall find real saints to draw from--Magdalene, Peter, and Paul; They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be tired at all!

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame; And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame; But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star, Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the G.o.d of Things as They Are!

I

THE SING-SONG OF OLD MAN KANGAROO

Not always was the Kangaroo as now we do behold him, but a Different Animal with four short legs. He was gray and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on an outcrop in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Little G.o.d Nqa at six before breakfast, saying, "Make me different from all other animals by five this afternoon."

Up jumped Nqa from his seat on the sandflat and shouted, "Go away!"

He was gray and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on a rockledge in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Middle G.o.d Nquing.

He went to Nquing at eight after breakfast, saying, "Make me different from all other animals; make me, also, wonderfully popular by five this afternoon."

Up jumped Nquing from his burrow in the spinifex and shouted, "Go away!"

He was gray and he was woolly, and his pride was inordinate: he danced on a sandbank in the middle of Australia, and he went to the Big G.o.d Nqong.

He went to Nqong at ten before dinner-time, saying, "Make me different from all other animals; make me popular and wonderfully run after by five this afternoon."

Up jumped Nqong from his bath in the salt-pan and shouted, "Yes, I will!"

Nqong called Dingo--Yellow-Dog Dingo--always hungry, dusty in the suns.h.i.+ne, and showed him Kangaroo. Nqong said, "Dingo! Wake up, Dingo!

Do you see that gentleman dancing on an ash-pit? He wants to be popular and very truly run after. Dingo, make him so!"

Up jumped Dingo--Yellow-Dog Dingo--and said, "What, _that_ cat-rabbit?"

Off ran Dingo--Yellow-Dog Dingo--always hungry, grinning like a coal-scuttle--ran after Kangaroo.

Off went the proud Kangaroo on his four little legs like a bunny.

This, O Beloved of mine, ends the first part of the tale!

He ran through the desert; he ran through the mountains; he ran through the salt-pans; he ran through the reed-beds; he ran through the blue gums; he ran through the spinifex; he ran till his front legs ached.

He had to!

[Ill.u.s.tration: This is a picture of Old Man Kangaroo when he was the Different Animal with four short legs. I have drawn him gray and woolly, and you can see that he is very proud because he has a wreath of flowers in his hair. He is dancing on an outcrop (that means a ledge of rock) in the middle of Australia at six o'clock before breakfast. You can see that it is six o'clock, because the sun is just getting up. The thing with the ears and the open mouth is Little G.o.d Nqa. Nqa is very much surprised, because he has never seen a Kangaroo dance like that before. Little G.o.d Nqa is just saying, "Go away," but the Kangaroo is so busy dancing that he has not heard him yet.

The Kangaroo has n't any real name except Boomer. He lost it because he was so proud.]

Still ran Dingo--Yellow-Dog Dingo--always hungry, grinning like a rat-trap, never getting nearer, never getting farther--ran after Kangaroo.

He had to!

Still ran Kangaroo--Old Man Kangaroo. He ran through the ti-trees; he ran through the mulga; he ran through the long gra.s.s; he ran through the short gra.s.s; he ran through the Tropics of Capricorn and Cancer; he ran till his hind legs ached.