Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/390

Take up the White Man's burden—
 No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper—
 The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
 The roads ye shall not tread,
Go make them with your living,
 And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man's burden—
 And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
 The hate of those ye guard
The cry of hosts ye humour
 (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:—
"Why brought ye us from bondage,
 "Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden—
 Ye dare not stoop to less—
Nor call too loud on Freedom
 To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
 By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
 Shall weigh your Gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden—
 Have done with childish days
The lightly proffered laurel,
 The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
 Through all the thankless years,
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
 The judgment of your peers!