Rudyard Kipling

But till we are built like angels, with hammer and chisel and
pen,
We will work for ourself read more

But till we are built like angels, with hammer and chisel and
pen,
We will work for ourself and a woman, for ever and ever, Amen.

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!

Follow the Romany Patteran
Sheer to the Austral light,
Where the bosom of God is the wild read more

Follow the Romany Patteran
Sheer to the Austral light,
Where the bosom of God is the wild west wind,
Sweeping the sea floors white.

God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle-line,
Beneath whose awful Hand we read more

God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle-line,
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!

Everyone is more or less mad on one point.

Everyone is more or less mad on one point.