Rudyard Kipling

(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)

The King's Pilgrimage


Our King went forth on pilgrimage
His prayers and vows to pay
To them that saved our heritage
And cast their own away.

And there was little show of pride,
Or prows of belted steel,
For the clean-swept oceans every side
Lay free to every keel.

And the first land he found, it was shoal and banky ground -
Where the broader seas begin,
And a pale tide grieving at the broken harbour-mouth
Where they worked the death-ships in.

And there was neither gull on the wing,
Nor wave that could not tell
Of the bodies that were buckled in the life-buoy's ring
That slid from swell to swell.

All that they had they gave - they gave; and they shall not return,
For these are those that have no grave where any heart may mourn.

And the next land he found, it was low and hollow ground -
Where once the cities stood,
But the man-high thistle had been master of it all,
Or the bulrush by the flood.

And there was neither blade of grass,
Nor lone star in the sky
But shook to see some spirit pass
And took its agony.

And the next land be found, it was bare and hilly round -
Where once the bread-corn grew,
But the fields were cankered and the water was defiled,
And the trees were riven through.

And there was neither paved highway,
Nor secret path in the wood,
But had borne its weight of the broken clay
And darkened 'neath the blood.

Father and mother they put aside, and the nearer love also -
An hundred thousand men who died whose graves shall no man
know.

And the last land he found, it was fair and level ground
About a carven stone,
And a stark Sword brooding on the bosom of the Cross
Where high and low are one.

And there was grass and the living trees,
And the flowers of the spring,
And there lay gentlemen from out of all the seas
That ever called him King.

'Twixt Nieuport sands and the eastward lands where the Four Red Rivers spring,
Five hundred thousand gentlemen of those that served their King.

All that they had they gave - they gave -
In sure and single faith.
There can no knowledge reach the grave
To make them grudge their death
Save only if they understood
That, after all was done,
We they redeemed denied their blood
And mocked the gains it won.

Submitted: Monday, March 29, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The King's Pilgrimage by Rudyard Kipling )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

New Poems

  1. ZZ Ebola Seen In Light Of The 1976 Swine.., Saiom Shriver
  2. As a salesman, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  3. Eyes Lock, Saiom Shriver
  4. Gods Will Be Watching, Kaio Clark
  5. Midnight Conversation in a Bar, Donal Mahoney
  6. Even eagles commit suicide, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  7. Rosie, Jacquie StewartHeimann
  8. Hurt me or I Lie, Antonio Liao
  9. In Spiritual Comfort, John Beaumont
  10. If she is a beauty, Diplove gautam

Poem of the Day

poet William Butler Yeats

WINE comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Anna Akhmatova

 

Member Poem

poet Sumita Datta

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  3. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  4. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  5. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  6. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  7. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  8. A Drinking Song, William Butler Yeats
  9. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  10. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]