| |
| ONE moment past our bodies cast | |
| No shadow on the plain; | |
| Now clear and black they stride our track, | |
| And we run home again. | |
| In morning hush, each rock and bush | 5 |
| Stands hard, and high, and raw: | |
| Then give the Call: “Good rest to all | |
| That keep the Jungle Law!” | |
| |
| Now horn and pelt our peoples melt | |
| In covert to abide; | 10 |
| Now, crouched and still, to cave and hill | |
| Our Jungle Barons glide. | |
| Now, stark, and plain, Man’s oxen strain, | |
| That draw the new-yoked plough; | |
| Now, stripped and dread, the dawn is red | 15 |
| Above the lit talao. 1 | |
| |
| Ho! Get to lair! The sun’s aflare | |
| Behind the breathing grass: | |
| And creaking through the young bamboo | |
| The warning whispers pass. | 20 |
| By day made strange, the woods we range | |
| With blinking eyes we scan; | |
| While down the skies the wild duck cries: | |
| “The Day—the Day to Man!” | |
| |
| The dew is dried that drenched our hide, | 25 |
| Or washed about our way; | |
| And where we drank, the puddled bank | |
| Is crisping into clay. | |
| The traitor Dark gives up each mark | |
| Of stretched or hooded claw; | 30 |
| Then hear the Call: “Good rest to all | |
| That keep the Jungle Law!” | |
