Rudyard Kipling

But that's another story.

But that's another story.

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!

Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
read more

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.

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall
blame;
And no one shall work read more

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall
blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate
star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They
Are!

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But read more

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.