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imported>Levana Taylor

imported>Levana Taylor
 
imported>Levana Taylor
Correction: wrong text added previously
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{{TextQuality|50%}}{{poem
{{TextQuality|50%}}{{poem
  | title    = Alnaschar and the Oxen
  | title    = The Centaurs
  | author  = Rudyard Kipling
  | author  = Rudyard Kipling
  | section  =  
  | section  =  
  | previous =
  | previous =
  | next    =
  | next    =
  | notes    = First published in the collection ''[[Debits and Credits]]'' (1926), accompanying the story [[The Bull that Thought|The Bull That Thought]].
  | notes    = First published in the collection ''[[Debits and Credits]]'' (1926), accompanying the story [[The United Idolaters]].
}}
}}


<div class="verse">
<div class="verse">
{{Sc|There’s}} a pasture in a valley where the hanging woods divide,<br />
Up came the young Centaur-colts from the plains they were fathered in — <br />
And a Herd lies down and ruminates in peace;<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Curious, awkward, afraid.<br />
Where the pheasant rules the nooning, and the owl the twilight tide,<br />
Burrs on their hocks and their tails, they were branded and gathered in<br />
And the war-cries of our world die out and cease.<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Mobs and run up to the yard to be made.<br />
Here I cast aside the burden that each weary week-day brings<br />
And, delivered from the shadows I pursue,<br />
On peaceful, postless, Sabbaths I consider Weighty Things<br />
Such as Sussex Cattle feeding in the dew!<br />
At the gate beside the river where the trouty shallows brawl,<br />
I know the pride that Lobengula felt,<br />
When he bade the bars be lowered of the Royal Cattle Kraal,<br />
And fifteen miles of oxen took the veldt.<br />
From the walls of Bulawayo in unbroken file they came<br />
To where the Mount of Council cuts the blue…<br />
I have only six and twenty, but the principle's the same<br />
With my Sussex Cattle feeding in the dew!<br />
<br />
<br />
To a luscious sound of tearing, where the clovered herbage rips,<br />
Starting and shying at straws, with sidlings and plungings,<br />
Level-backed and level-bellied watch 'em move.<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Buckings and whirlings and bolts;<br />
See those shoulders, guess that heart-girth, praise those loins, admire those hips,<br />
Greener than grass, but full-ripe for their bridling and lungings,<br />
And the tail set low for flesh to make above!<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Up to the yards and to Chiron they bustled the colts…<br />
Count the broad unblemished muzzles, test the kindly mellow skin<br />
And, where yon heifer lifts her head at call,<br />
Mark the bosom's just abundance 'neath the gay and cleancut chin,<br />
And those eyes of Juno, overlooking all!<br />
<br />
<br />
Here is colour, form and substance, I will put it to the proof<br />
First the light web and the cavesson; then the linked keys<br />
And, next season, in my lodges shall be born<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To jingle and turn on the tongue. Then, with cocked ears,<br />
Some very Bull of Mithras, flawless from his agate hoof<br />
The hours of watching and envy, while comrades at ease<br />
To his even-branching ivory, dusk-tipped horn.<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Passaged and backed, making naught of these terrible gears.<br />
He shall mate with block-square virgins — kings shall seek his like in vain,<br />
While I multiply his stock a thousandfold,<br />
Till an hungry world extol me, builder of a lofty strain<br />
That turns one standard ton at two years old.<br />
<br />
<br />
There's a valley, under oakwood, where a man may dream his dream,<br />
Next, over-pride and its price at the low-seeming fence<br />
In the milky breath of cattle laid at ease,<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Too oft and too easily taken — the world-beheld fall!<br />
Till the moon o'ertops the alders, and her image chills the stream,<br />
And none in the yard except Chiron to doubt the immense,<br />
And the river-mist runs silver round their knees!<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Irretrievable shame of it all!…<br />
Now the footpaths fade and vanish; now the ferny clumps deceive;<br />
<br />
Now the hedgerow-folk possess their fields anew;<br />
Last, the trained squadron, full-charge — the sound of a going<br />
Now the Herd is lost in darkness, and I bless them as I leave,<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Through dust and spun clods, and strong kicks, pelted in as they went,<br />
My Sussex Cattle feeding in the dew! <br />
And repaid at top-speed; till the order to halt without slowing<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Showed every colt on his haunches — and Chiron content!<br />
</div>
</div>


[[Category:Poems]]
[[Category:Poems]]
[[Category:Rudyard Kipling]]
[[Category:Rudyard Kipling]]

Revision as of 21:02, 9 April 2009

The Centaurs
written by Rudyard Kipling
First published in the collection Debits and Credits (1926), accompanying the story The United Idolaters. Link to further information




Up came the young Centaur-colts from the plains they were fathered in —
    Curious, awkward, afraid.
Burrs on their hocks and their tails, they were branded and gathered in
    Mobs and run up to the yard to be made.

Starting and shying at straws, with sidlings and plungings,
    Buckings and whirlings and bolts;
Greener than grass, but full-ripe for their bridling and lungings,
    Up to the yards and to Chiron they bustled the colts…

First the light web and the cavesson; then the linked keys
    To jingle and turn on the tongue. Then, with cocked ears,
The hours of watching and envy, while comrades at ease
    Passaged and backed, making naught of these terrible gears.

Next, over-pride and its price at the low-seeming fence
    Too oft and too easily taken — the world-beheld fall!
And none in the yard except Chiron to doubt the immense,
    Irretrievable shame of it all!…

Last, the trained squadron, full-charge — the sound of a going
    Through dust and spun clods, and strong kicks, pelted in as they went,
And repaid at top-speed; till the order to halt without slowing
    Showed every colt on his haunches — and Chiron content!

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