The Evolution of Rudyard

White Ribbon, Volume 3, Issue 27, 1 September 1897, Page 7

The Evolution of Rudyard

Kipling. We first knew Kipling as a writer of short tales descriptive of the seamy side of life in Indian military circles, and of the everyday life among the privates of the line in India. Later on we made the acquaintance of his Barrack Room Baliads. In the tales he displayed a keenness of vision and power of portraiture that enabled us to see the thread of Divinity which runs through lines which, to an ordinary observer, seem altogether repulsive and objectionable. In the Ballads he has succeeded in imparting a wondrous pathos to the vilest cockney dialect. But tales and Ballads alike are marred by unnecessary coarseness and irreverence. In 44 The Seven Seas ” Rudyard Kipling strikes a higher note. There is still some coarseness but there is more reverence. For fine manly vigour some of his lines could scarcely lie surpassed. They ring in the ear with a vibrant quality that is almost electric. In them the poet inculcates the lessons of duty, order, law, and discipline. But in the last poem which Kipling has written is evidence that he has risen into loftier altitudes. It is as follows—was published in the London Times, and is being set to music by Sir Arthur Sullivan:—

RECESSIONAL. God of our father*, known of old— Lord of our far-flung battle-line— Beneath Whoee awful (laud ws hold Dominion over palm and pine— Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lett we forget—lest we forget! The tumult and the shouting dies— The captains and the kings depart — Still atande Thine ancient Sam hoe, An humid* and a contrite heart. Lord God of Host*, be with u* yet, l*st we forgot —lest we forget! Far-called our navies melt away— Ita dune aad headland sinks the fire Lo. all our pouip of yesterday Is one ’jith NineVeh and Tyre ! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, L?st we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with i ght of power, w»* loot* Wild tonga* • that have not Thee in awe — Such boMting as the Gent ilea uae, O leaner breed* without the Law— Lord God of Rosts, lie wrh ua yet. Lost w»* f<*rget—leaf xv forget! For heathen heart that put« her trust In reeking iu>e and iron shard— All valiant dust th«t builds on dust. And guarding calls not Thee to guard Foe Iran tic boast and foolish word. Thy Mercy ju Thy People, Lord! Amen.