Rudyard Kipling: A Criticism

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John Lane, 1900 - 163 páginas

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Página 15 - Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man upright; but they have sought out many inventions.
Página 34 - God's own guides on the Long Trail — the trail that is always new. Fly forward, O my heart, from the Foreland to the Start— We're steaming all too slow, And it's twenty thousand mile to our little lazy isle Where the trumpet-orchids blow! You have heard the call of the off-shore wind And the voice of the deep-sea rain ; You have heard the song— how long — how long? Pull out on the trail again!
Página 66 - One stone the more swings to her place In that dread Temple of Thy Worth — It is enough that through Thy grace I saw naught common on Thy earth.
Página 31 - British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!' Come you back to Mandalay, Where the old Flotilla lay: Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin
Página 54 - I'd been doon that morn to see what ailed the throws, Manholin', on my back — the cranks three inches off my nose. Romance! Those first-class passengers they like it very well, Printed an' bound in little books; but why don't poets tell? I'm sick of all their quirks an' turns — the loves and doves they dream — Lord, send a man like Robbie Burns to sing the Song o
Página 62 - I think, this bloomin' world, Which you can read and care for just so long, But presently you will feel that you will die Unless you get the page you're readin' done, An' turn another — likely not so good ; But what you're after is to turn 'em all.
Página 42 - And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the Colonel's pride : He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day, And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away. Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides: " Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?
Página 6 - It was a shade cooler in the press-room than the office, so I sat there, while the type ticked and clicked, and the night-jars hooted at the windows, and the all but naked compositors wiped the sweat from their foreheads, and called for water. The thing that was keeping us back, whatever it was, would not come off, though the loo...
Página 18 - And I laughed as I drove from the station, but the mirth died out on my lips As I thought of the fools like Pagett who write of their "Eastern trips...
Página 40 - When the flicker of London sun falls faint on the Club-room's green and gold, The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mould — They scratch with their pens in the mould of their graves, and the ink and the anguish start, For the Devil mutters behind the leaves :

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