Rudyard Kipling

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.

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.

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it read more

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it so--exceptin' always steam,
From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see thy Hand, O God--
Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin'-rod.

Too much work and too much energy kill a man just as effectively as too much assorted vice or too read more

Too much work and too much energy kill a man just as effectively as too much assorted vice or too much drink

High noon behind the tamarisks, the sun is hot above us--
As at home the Christmas Day is breaking read more

High noon behind the tamarisks, the sun is hot above us--
As at home the Christmas Day is breaking wan,
They will drink our healths at dinner, those who tell us how they
love us,
And forget us till another year be gone!