Page:Rudyard Kipling - A diversity of creatures.djvu/312

300 ::::For we are what we are—
 * So broke to blood
 * And the strict works of war—
 * So long subdued

To sacrifice, that threadbare Death commands Hardly observance at our busier hands.


 * Yet we were what we were,
 * And, fashioned so,
 * It pleases us to stare
 * At the far show

Of unbelievable years and shapes that flit, In our own likeness, on the edge of it.