Rudyard Kipling ( 10 of 41 )
Over all good things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed.
Over all good things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed.
One good quote is worth a book
One good quote is worth a book
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
A heathy garden is a reflection of a healthy soul.
A heathy garden is a reflection of a healthy soul.
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.
The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds--
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband an' 'e gives 'er read more
The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds--
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband an' 'e gives 'er all she needs;
But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun',
They're just the same as you an' me, a'-plyin' up an' down.
Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
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Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out
trail,
We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always
new.
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!
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!
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy old crown on 'er 'ead?
She read more
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy old crown on 'er 'ead?
She 'as ships on the foam--she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.
