Rudyard Kipling

(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)


Poem by Rudyard Kipling

Man dies too soon, beside his works half-planned.
His days are counted and reprieve is vain:
Who shall entreat with Death to stay his hand;
Or cloke the shameful nakedness of pain?

Send here the bold, the seekers of the way--
The passionless, the unshakeable of soul,
Who serve the inmost mysteries of man's clay,
And ask no more than leave to make them whole.

Comments about Doctors by Rudyard Kipling

  • Michael WalkerMichael Walker (7/31/2019 8:07:00 PM)

    Kipling gives a positive opinion of doctors, 'Who serve the inmost mysteries of man's clay,
    and ask no more than leave to make them whole'.
    Doctors are the ones to turn to if you are threatened by Death, who will not change His mind and allow you to live longer. 'Man dies too soon, '. I could not agree more.(Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: pain, death, work

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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