THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer. "Ha' done! ha' done!" said the Colonel's son. "Put up the steel at your sides! Last night ye had struck at a Border thief-to-night 'tis a man of the Guides!" Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth! THE LAST SUTTEE Not many years ago a King died in one of the Rajpoot States. His wives, disregarding the orders of the English against Suttee, would have broken out of the palace had not the gates been barred. But one of them, disguised as the King's favourite dancing-girl, passed through the line of guards and reached the pyre. There, her courage failing, she prayed her cousin, a baron of the court, to kill her. This he did, not knowing who she was. UDAI CHAND lay sick to death In his hold by Gungra hill. All night we heard the death-gongs ring All night the barons came and went, That clinked in the palace yard. THE LAST SUTTEE In the Golden room on the palace roof And there was sobbing behind the screen, He passed at dawn-the death-fire leaped From the Malwa plains to the Abu scars: When they knew that the King was dead. The dumb priest knelt to tie his mouth The Boondi Queen beneath us cried: We drove the great gates home apace: But ere the rush of the unseen feet A face looked down in the gathering day, "Ohé, they mourn here: let me by- "For I ruled the King as ne'er did Queen,To-night the Queens rule me! Guard them safely, but let me go, Or ever they pay the debt they owe In scourge and torture!" She leaped below, And the grim guard watched her flee. They knew that the King had spent his soul That he prayed to a flat-nosed Lucknow god, We bore the King to his fathers' place, Where the tombs of the Sun-born stand: Where the gray apes swing, and the peacocks preen On fretted pillar and jewelled screen, And the wild boar couch in the house of the Queen On the drift of the desert sand. The herald read his titles forth, We set the logs aglow: THE LAST SUTTEE "Friend of the English, free from fear, All night the red flame stabbed the sky A woman who veiled her head and wept, slept, And turned not for her tears. Small thought had he to mark the strife- When thrice she leaped from the leaping flame, One watched, a bow-shot from the blaze, Who had stood by the King in sport and fray, He said: "O shameless, put aside |