Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/294

 Small thought had he to mark the strife— Cold fear with hot desire— When thrice she leaped from the leaping flame, And thrice she beat her breast for shame, And thrice like a wounded dove she came And moaned about the fire.

He said: "O shameless, put aside "The veil upon thy brow! "Who held the King and all his land "To the wanton will of a harlot's hand! "Will the white ash rise from the blistered brand? "Stoop down, and call him now!"

Then she: "By the faith of my tarnished soul, "All things I did not well, "I had hoped to clear ere the fire died, "And lay me down by my master's side "To rule in Heaven his only bride, "While the others howl in Hell.

"But I have felt the fire's breath, "And hard it is to die! "Yet if I may pray a Rajpoot lord "To sully the steel of a Thakur's sword "With base-born blood of a trade abhorred. . . ." And the Thakur answered, "Ay." He drew and struck: the straight blade drank

The life beneath the breast. "I had looked for the Queen to face the flame, "But the harlot dies for the Rajpoot dame— "Sister of mine, pass, free from shame. "Pass with thy King to rest!"