993894A Copyright, 1903, by Rudyard Kipling Published, October, 1903 THE CAXTON PRESS NEW YORK CITY, U. 8. A. DEDICATION Before a midnight breaks in storm, Ye know what wavering gusts inform The greater tempest's path; Till the loosed wind Drive all from mind, Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry, O'ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky. Ere rivers league against the land In piratry of flood, Ye know what waters slip and stand Where seldom water stood. Yet who will note, Till fields afloat, And washen carcass and the returning well, Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell? Ye know who use the Crystal Ball (To peer by stealth on Doom), The Shade that, shaping first of all, Prepares an empty room. Like breath from glass, But, on the extorted vision bowed intent, Before the years reborn behold Themselves with stranger eye, And the sport-making Gods of old, Like Samson slaying, die, Many shall hear The all-pregnant sphere, Bow to the birth and sweat, but―speech denied— Sit dumb or-dealt in part-fall weak and wide. Yet instant to fore-shadowed need The eternal balance swings; These shall possess Our littleness, And in the imperial task (as worthy) lay Up our lives' all to piece one giant day. |
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