Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.

A Dedication

AND they were stronger hands than mine

That digged the Ruby from the earth—

More cunning brains that made it worth

The large desire of a king,

And stouter hearts that through the brine

Went down the perfect Pearl to bring.

Lo, I have wrought in common clay

Rude figures of a rough-hewn race,

Since pearls strew not the market-place

In this my town of banishment,

Where with the shifting dust I play,

And eat the bread of discontent.

Yet is there life in that I make.

O thou who knowest, turn and see—

As thou hast power over me

So have I power over these,

Because I wrought them for thy sake,

And breathed in them mine agonies.

Small mirth was in the making—now

I lift the cloth that cloaks the clay,

And, wearied, at thy feet I lay

My wares, ere I go forth to sell.

The long bazar will praise, but thou—

Heart of my heart—have I done well?