Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/310

The Kings of the North they were scattered abroad—
⁠The Rajah of Dacca he slew them all.
Hot from slaughter he stooped at the ford,
⁠And the dove—the dove—oh, the homing dove!
She thought of her cote on the palace-wall.

She opened her wings and she flew away—
⁠Fluttered away beyond recall;
She came to the palace at break of day.
⁠Dove—dove—oh, homing dove,
Flying so fast for a kingdom's fall!

The Queens of Dacca they slept in flame—
⁠Slept in the flame of the palace old—
To save their honour from Moslem shame.
⁠And the dove—the dove—oh, the homing dove,
She cooed to her young where the smoke-cloud rolled!

The Rajah of Dacca rode far and fleet,
⁠Followed as fast as a horse could fly,
He came and the palace was black at his feet;
⁠And the dove—the dove—the homing dove,
Circled alone in the stainless sky.

So the dove flew to the Rajah's tower—
⁠Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings;
So the thorns covered the city of Gaur,
⁠And Dacca was lost for a white dove's wings.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove,
⁠Dacca is lost from the Roll of the Kings!