Songs from Books Part 27

_'Tiger-Tiger!'_

Veil them, cover them, wall them round-- Blossom, and creeper, and weed-- Let us forget the sight and the sound, The smell and the touch of the breed!

Fat black ash by the altar-stone.

Here is the white-foot rain, And the does bring forth in the fields unsown, And none shall affright them again; And the blind walls crumble, unknown, o'erthrown, And none shall inhabit again!

_Letting in the Jungle._

These are the Four that are never content, that have never been filled since the Dews began-- Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the Kite, and the hands of the Ape, and the Eyes of Man.

_The King's Ankus._

For our white and our excellent nights--for the nights of swift running, Fair ranging, far-seeing, good hunting, sure cunning!

For the smells of the dawning, untainted, ere dew has departed!

For the rush through the mist, and the quarry blind-started!

For the cry of our mates when the sambhur has wheeled and is standing at bay!

For the risk and the riot of night!

For the sleep at the lair-mouth by day!

It is met, and we go to the fight.

Bay! O bay!

_Red Dog._

Man goes to Man! Cry the challenge through the Jungle!

He that was our Brother goes away.

Hear, now, and judge, O ye People of the Jungle,-- Answer, who shall turn him--who shall stay?

Man goes to Man! He is weeping in the Jungle: He that was our Brother sorrows sore!

Man goes to Man! (Oh, we loved him in the Jungle!) To the Man-Trail where we may not follow more.

_The Spring Running._

At the hole where he went in Red-Eye called to Wrinkle-Skin.

Hear what little Red-Eye saith: 'Nag, come up and dance with death!'

Eye to eye and head to head, _(Keep the measure, Nag.)_ This shall end when one is dead; _(At thy pleasure, Nag.)_

Turn for turn and twist for twist-- _(Run and hide thee, Nag.)_ Hah! The hooded Death has missed!

_(Woe betide thee, Nag!)_

_'Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.'_

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us, And black are the waters that sparkled so green.

The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us At rest in the hollows that rustle between.

Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow; Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!

The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee, Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.

_The White Seal._

You mustn't swim till you're six weeks old, Or your head will be sunk by your heels; And summer gales and Killer Whales Are bad for baby seals.

Are bad for baby seals, dear rat, As bad as bad can be; But splash and grow strong, And you can't be wrong, Child of the Open Sea!

_The White Seal._

I will remember what I was, I am sick of rope and chain.

I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs.

I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar-cane.

I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.

I will go out until the day, until the morning break, Out to the winds' untainted kiss, the waters' clean caress.

I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket-stake.

I will revisit my lost loves, and playmates master-less!

_Toomai of the Elephants._

The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow-- They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.

The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight; They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to the white.

The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler's crew; Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.

But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken-- Their spears are made of the narwhal-horn, and they are the last of the Men!

_Quiquern._

When ye say to Tabaqui, 'My Brother!' when ye call the Hyena to meat, Ye may cry the Full Truce with Jacala--the Belly that runs on four feet.

_The Undertakers._

The night we felt the earth would move We stole and plucked him by the hand, Because we loved him with the love That knows but cannot understand.