Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/224

 So thank I God my birth Fell not in isles aside— Waste headlands of the earth, Or warring tribes-untried— But that she lent me worth And gave me right to pride.

Surely in toil or fray Under an alien sky, Comfort it is to say: "Of no mean city am I!"

(Neither by service nor fee Come I to mine estate— Mother of Cities to me, But I was born in her gate, Between the palms and the sea, Where the world-end steamers wait.)

Now for this debt I owe, And for her far-borne cheer Must I make haste and go With tribute to her pier.

And she shall" touch and remit After the use of kings (Orderly, ancient, fit) My deep-sea plunderings,

And purchase in all lands. And this we do for a sign Her power is over mine, And mine I hold at her hands!