Page:Rudyard Kipling's verse - Inclusive Edition 1885-1918.djvu/79

Rh It was under Khyraghaut I mused:—"Suppose the maid be haughty—

"There are lovers rich—and forty; wait some wealthy Avatar?

"Answer, monitor untiring, 'twixt the ponies twain perspiring!"

"Faint heart never won fair lady," creaked the straining tonga-bar.

"Can I tell you ere you ask Her?" pounded slow the tonga-bar.

Last, the Tara Devi turning showed the lights of Simla burning,

Lit my little lazy yearning to a fiercer flame by far.

As below the Mall we jingled, through my very heart it tingled—

Did the iterated order of the threshing tonga-bar:—

"Try your luck—you can't do better!" twanged the loosened tongar-bar.



CHRISTMAS IN INDIA

IM dawn behind the tamarisks—the sky is saffron-yellow—

As the women in the village grind the corn,

And the parrots seek the river-side, each calling to his fellow

That the Day, the staring Eastern Day, is born.

O the white dust on the highway! O the stenches in the byway!

O the clammy fog that hovers over earth!

And at Home they're making merry 'neath the white and scarlet berry—

What part have India's exiles in their mirth?

