For since that wife had gate or gear,
Or hearth or garth or field,
She willed her sons to the white harvest,
And that is a bitter yield.
She wills her sons to the wet ploughing,
To ride the horse of tree;
And syne her sons come back again
Far-spent from out the sea.
The good wife's sons come home again
With little into their hands,
But the lore of men that have dealt with men
In the new and naked lands;
But the faith of men that have brothered men
By more than easy breath,
And the eyes o' men that have read with men
In the open books of Death.
Rich are they, rich in wonders seen,
But poor in the goods o' men;
So what they have got by the skin o' their teeth
They sell for their teeth again.
And whether they lose to the naked life
Or win to their hearts' desire,
They tell it all to the weary wife
That nods beside the fire.
Her hearth is wide to every wind
That makes the white ash spin;
And tide and tide and 'tween the tides
Her sons go out and in;
Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/127
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