Rudyard Kipling

All the people like us are we, And everyone else is They.

All the people like us are we, And everyone else is They.

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!

The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
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The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
A humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet
Lest we forget,--lest we forget.

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

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he read more

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' took--the same as me.