Rudyard Kipling Poems
|473.||Cities and Thrones and Powers||1/3/2003|
|474.||Christmas in India||1/3/2003|
|477.||Certain Maxims of Hafiz||1/3/2003|
|480.||Cain and Abel||1/3/2003|
The First Chantey
Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her.
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her.
Swift through the forest we ran; none stood to guard us,
Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us --
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen.
Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen.