Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/628

 610 RUDYARD KIPLING'S VERSE

Big with new birth the belly heaves Beneath its screen of scented leaves. Past any doubt, the bull conceives!

The farmer bids men bring more hives To house the profit that arrives; Prepares on pan, and key and kettle, Sweet music that shall make 'em settle; But when to crown the work he goes, Gods! What a stink salutes his nose!

Where are the honest toilers? Where

The gravid mistress of their care?

A busy scene, indeed, he sees,

But not a sign or sound of bees.

Worms of the riper grave unhid

By any kindly coffin-lid,

Obscene and shameless to the light,

Seethe in insatiate appetite,

Through putrid offal, while above

The hissing blow-fly seeks his love,

Whose offspring, supping where they supt,

Consume corruption twice corrupt.

ROAD-SONG OF THE BANDAR-LOG

J-JERE we go in a flung festoon,

Half-way up to the jealous moon!

Don't you envy our pranceful bands?

Don't you wish you had extra hands?

Wouldn't you like if your tails were so

Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow? Now you're angry, but never mind, Brother, thy tail hangs down behind !