Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/117

INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918     99 Thou art the Voice to kingly boys To lift them through the fight, And Comfortress of Unsuccess, To give the Dead good-night.

A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law And Man's infirmity, A shadow kind to dumb and blind The shambles where we die; A rule to trick th' arithmetic Too base, of leaguing odds— The spur of trust, the curb of lust, Thou handmaid of the Gods!

O Charity, all patiently Abiding wrack and scaith! O Faith, that meets ten thousand cheats Yet drops no jot of faith! Devil and brute Thou dost transmute To higher, lordlier show, Who art in sooth that lovely Truth The careless angels know!

Thy face is far from this our war, Our call and counter-cry, I may not find Thee quick and kind, Nor know Thee till I die.

Yet may I look with heart unshook On blow brought home or missed— Yet may I hear with equal ear The clarions down the List; Yet set my lance above mischance And ride the barriere— Oh, hit or miss, how little 't is, My Lady is not there!