Rudyard Kipling

(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)

Rudyard Kipling Poems

521. A Death-Bed 1/3/2003
522. A Charm 1/3/2003
523. Tommy 12/31/2002
524. A Ballad Of Burial 12/31/2002
525. White Horses 12/31/2002
526. The Men That Fought At Minden 12/31/2002
527. A Dead Statesman 3/29/2010
528. Poor Honest Men 1/3/2003
529. The Power Of The Dog 12/31/2002
530. The Young British Soldier 12/31/2002
531. A Legend Of Truth 1/3/2003
532. A Smuggler's Song 1/3/2003
533. Christmas In India 1/3/2003
534. Cupid's Arrows 1/3/2003
535. In Error 1/3/2003
536. When Earth's Last Picture Is Painted 12/31/2002
537. In Springtime 1/3/2003
538. Mary, Pity Women! 12/31/2002
539. I Keep Six Honest... 1/3/2003
540. Mandalay 12/31/2002
541. Cleared 12/31/2002
542. A Servant When He Reigneth 1/1/2004
543. Mother O' Mine 1/3/2003
544. Angutivaun Taina 12/31/2002
545. Fuzzy-Wuzzy 12/31/2002
546. A Code Of Morals 1/3/2003
547. Gunga Din 12/31/2002
548. A Child's Garden 1/3/2003
549. If 12/31/2002

Comments about Rudyard Kipling

  • Luke Benuska (11/13/2006 7:55:00 PM)

    i think that Rudyard kipling is a cool guy and room 106 5th period rocks

    111 person liked.
    80 person did not like.
  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/19/2006 9:45:00 AM)

    I did not like Mr Kipling's protryal of india in some of his poems.

  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/19/2006 9:44:00 AM)

    Mr Kipling might have born in India, but i did not in some of his poetry like the potryal of India.

Best Poem of Rudyard Kipling

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream- -and not make dreams your master;
If you can think- -and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the ...

Read the full of If

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.

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