552 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
I did no more than others did,
I don't know where the change began.
I started as a average kid, I finished as a thinkin' man.
If England was what England seems y An not the England of our dreams,
But only putty, brass, an' paint,
'Ow quick we'd drop 'er ! But she ain't!
Before my gappin' mouth could speak
I 'card it in my comrade's tone; I saw it on my neighbour's cheek
Before I felt it flush my own. An' last it come to me not pride,
Nor yet conceit, but on the 'ole (If such a term may be applied),
The makin's of a bloomin' soul.
Rivers at night that cluck an' jeer,
Plains which the moonshine turns to sea, Mountains which never let you near,
An' stars to all eternity; An' the quick-breathin' dark that fills
The 'ollows of the wilderness, When the wind worries through the 'ills
These may 'ave taught me more or less.
Towns without people, ten times took,
An' ten times left an' burned at last; An' starvin' dogs that come to look
For owners when a column passed; An' quiet, 'omesick talks between
Men, met by night, you never knew Until 'is face by shellfire seen
Once an' struck off. They taught me too.