Rudyard Kipling

If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know read more

If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

No printed word, nor spoken plea can teach young minds what they should be. Not all the books on all read more

No printed word, nor spoken plea can teach young minds what they should be. Not all the books on all the shelves – but what the teachers are themselves.

We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a
surplice peg,
We have learned read more

We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a
surplice peg,
We have learned to bottle our parent twain in the yelk of an
addled egg.
We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the horse is drawn by
the cart,
But the devil never whoops, as he of old; It's clever, but is it
art?

Take up the White Man's burden.

Take up the White Man's burden.

And the talk slid north, and the talk slid south
With the sliding puffs from the hookah-mouth;
read more

And the talk slid north, and the talk slid south
With the sliding puffs from the hookah-mouth;
Four things greater than all things are--
Women and Horses and Power and War.