Take up the White Man's burden— Send forth the best ye breed—Go, bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need;To wait, in heavy harness, On fluttered folk and wild—Your new-caught sullen peoples, Half devil and half child.Take up the White Man's burden— In patience to abide,To veil the threat of terror And check the show of pride;By open speech and simple, An hundred times made plain,To seek another's profit And work another's gain.Take up the White Man's burden— The savage wars of peace—Fill full the mouth of Famine, And bid the sickness cease;And when your goal is nearest (The end for others sought)Watch sloth and heathen folly Bring all your hope to nought.Take up the White Man's burden— No iron 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 will or whisper, By all ye leave or do,The silent sullen peoples Shall weigh your God 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.
Recessional
God of our fathers, known of old--Lord of our far-flung battle line--Beneath whose awful hand we holdDominion over palm and pine--Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget--lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies--The Captains and the Kings depart--Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,An humble and a contrite heart.Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget--lest we forget!
Far-called our navies melt away--On dune and headland sinks the fire--Lo, all our pomp of yesterdayIs one with Nineveh and Tyre!Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,Lest we forget--lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we looseWild tongues that have not Thee in awe--Such boastings as the Gentiles use,Or lesser breeds without the Law--Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget--lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trustIn reeking tube and iron shard--All valiant dust that builds on dust,And guarding calls not Thee to guard.For frantic boast and foolish word,Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!Amen.
Rudyard Kipling 1897
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