Rudyard Kipling

(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)

Rudyard Kipling Poems

521. A Ballad Of Burial 12/31/2002
522. White Horses 12/31/2002
523. The Power Of The Dog 12/31/2002
524. A Dead Statesman 3/29/2010
525. A Lover's Journey 1/3/2003
526. A Charm 1/3/2003
527. Follow Me 'Ome 12/31/2002
528. Christmas In India 1/3/2003
529. The Men That Fought At Minden 12/31/2002
530. A Legend Of Truth 1/3/2003
531. Blue Roses 1/3/2003
532. A Smuggler's Song 1/3/2003
533. The Young British Soldier 12/31/2002
534. When Earth's Last Picture Is Painted 12/31/2002
535. I Keep Six Honest... 1/3/2003
536. In Error 1/3/2003
537. Cupid's Arrows 1/3/2003
538. Mary, Pity Women! 12/31/2002
539. In Springtime 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. Gunga Din 12/31/2002
547. A Code Of Morals 1/3/2003
548. A Child's Garden 1/3/2003
549. If 12/31/2002

Comments about Rudyard Kipling

  • 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.

    42 person liked.
    52 person did not like.
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

Quiquern

The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow--
They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;
They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to
the white.
The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler's
crew;
Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.
But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken--

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