Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/47

Rh Behold, I promise—Anything You will.

Behold, I greet you with an empty Till—

Ah! Fellow-Sinners, of your Charity

Seek not the Reason of the Dearth but fill.

For if I sinned and fell, where lies the Gain

Of Knowledge? Would it ease you of your Pain

To know the tangled Threads of Revenue,

I ravel deeper in a hopeless Skein?

"Who hath not Prudence"—what was it I said,

Of Her who paints her Eyes and tires Her Head,

And jibes and mocks the People in the Street,

And fawns upon them for Her thriftless Bread?

Accursed is She of Eve's daughters—She

Hath cast off Prudence, and Her End shall be

Destruction. . . . Brethren, of your Bounty grant

Some portion of your daily Bread to Me!



PAGETT, M.P.

AGETT, M.P., was a liar, and a fluent liar therewith,—

He spoke of the heat of India as "The Asian Solar Myth";

Came on a four months' visit, to "study the East" in November,

And I got him to sign an agreement vowing to stay till September.

