704 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE
I will reap your fields before you at the hands of a host; Ye shall glean behind my reapers for the bread that is lost; And the deer shall be your oxen
On a headland un tilled, For the Kare/a, the bitter Karela, Shall leaf where ye build !
I have untied against you the club-footed vines I have sent in the Jungle to swamp out your lines! The trees the trees are on you!
The house-beams shall fall, And the Kare/a, the bitter Karela y Shall cover you all!
ROMULUS AND REMUS
QH, LITTLE did the Wolf-Child care- When first he planned his home, What city should arise and bear The weight and state of Rome.
A shiftless, westward-wandering tramp,
Checked by the Tiber flood, He reared a wall around his camp
Of uninspired mud.
But when his brother leaped the Wall And mocked its height and make,
He guessed the future of it all And slew him for its sake.
Swift was the blow swift as the thought
Which showed him in that hour How unbelief may bring to naught The early steps of Power.
