SONG OF THE WISE CHILDREN We shall go back by boltless doors, To the life unaltered our childhood knew To the naked feet on the cool, dark floors, And the high-ceiled rooms that the Trade blows through: To the trumpet-flowers and the moon beyond, And the tree-toads' chorus drowning allAnd the lisp of the split banana-frond That talked us to sleep when we were small. The wayside magic, the threshold spells, Shall soon undo what the North has done— Because of the sights and the sounds and the smells That ran with our youth in the eye of the sun. And Earth accepting shall ask no vows, Nor the Sea our love nor our lover the Sky. When we return to our Father's House BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA (1892) 'And there is a Japanese idol at Kamakura' O H ye who tread the Narrow Way By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day, To him the Way, the Law, Apart, The Buddha of Kamakura. For though he neither burns nor sees, Yet spare us still the Western joke That worship at Kamakura The gray-robed, gay-sashed butterflies But loves them at Kamakura. BUDDHA AT KAMAKURA And whoso will, from Pride released, Yea, every tale Ananda heard, Till drowsy eyelids seem to see And down the loaded air there comes Yet Brahmans rule Benares still, A tourist-show, a legend told, But when the morning prayer is prayed, No nearer than Kamakura? THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN T (1899) AKE up the White Man's burden- To serve your captives' need; To wait in heavy harness, On fluttered folk and wild Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Take up the White Man's burden In patience to abide, To veil the threat of terror And check the show of pride; By open speech and simple, An hundred times made plain, To seek another's profit, And work another's gain. Take up the White Man's burden- And bid the sickness cease; THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN And when your goal is nearest Take up the White Man's burden- Take up the White Man's burden- The blame of those ye better, The hate of those ye guard The cry of hosts ye humour (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:"Why brought ye us from bondage, Our loved Egyptian night?' Take up the White Man's burden- Nor call too loud on Freedom By all ye cry or whisper, The silent, sullen peoples Shall weigh your Gods and you. |