"I ha' harpit a shadow out o' the sun

"To stand before your face and cry;
"I ha' armed the earth beneath your heel,
"And over your head I ha' dusked the sky.

"I ha' harpit ye up to the throne o' God,
"I ha' harpit your midmost soul in three;
"I ha' harpit ye down to the Hinges o' Hell,
"And-ye-would — make a Knight o' me!"

-

THE PALACE

1902

WHEN I was a King and a Mason—a Master proven and

I cleared me ground for a Palace such as a King should build.
I decreed and dug down to my levels. Presently, under the silt,
I came on the wreck of a Palace such as a King had built.

There was no worth in the fashion

plan

there was no wit in the

Hither and thither, aimless, the ruined footings ran -
Masonry, brute, mishandled, but carven on every stone:
"After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known."

Swift to my use in my trenches, where my well-planned groundworks grew,

I tumbled his quoins and his ashlars, and cut and reset them

anew.

Lime I milled of his marbles; burned it, slacked it, and spread: Taking and leaving at pleasure the gifts of the humble dead.

Yet I despised not nor gloried; yet, as we wrenched them apart, I read in the razed foundations the heart of that builder's heart. As he had risen and pleaded, so did I understand

The form of the dream he had followed in the face of the thing he had planned.

When I was a King and a Mason ·

pride,

in the open noon of my

They sent me a Word from the Darkness - They whispered and called me aside.

They said "The end is forbidden." They said "Thy use is fulfilled.

"Thy Palace shall stand as that other's the spoil of a King who shall build."

I called my men from my trenches, my quarries, my wharves, and my sheers.

All I had wrought I abandoned to the faith of the faithless years.
Only I cut on the timber only I carved on the stone:
After me cometh a Builder.

Tell him, I too have known!

BARRACK ROOM BALLADS

I

INDIAN SERVICE

1889-1891

TO THOMAS ATKINS

I HAVE made for you a song,
And it may be right or wrong,
But only you can tell me if it's true;
I have tried for to explain
Both your pleasure and your pain,
And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you!

O there'll surely come a day
When they'll give you all your pay,
And treat you as a Christian ought to do;
So, until that day comes round,
Heaven keep you safe and sound,

And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you!

R. K.

DANNY DEEVER

the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on

"To turn you out, to turn you out," the Colour-Sergeant said. "What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on

Parade.

"I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch," the Colour-Sergeant

said.