When I think of Rudyard Kipling (12/30/1865 – 1/18/1936), I think of the last stanza of Gunga Din first:
’E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.
’E put me safe inside,
An’ just before ’e died,
“I ’ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet ’im later on
At the place where ’e is gone—
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen;
’E’ll be squattin’ on the coals
Givin’ drink to poor damned souls,
An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
That’s probably because I saw the movie Gunga Din (with Cary Grant) a few times when I was young and I also have a vague memory of my father reciting the poem. I just remember that Din! Din! Din! part. Read the rest of this entry »
We had an awesome soloist in church this morning who sang “Jesus, Oh What a Wonderful Child” and “Not Too Far From Here“. Of course, this is not the singer I saw this morning, but still wanted to share the song, so I found a good youtube:
Today is the birthday of British pacifist, feminist, poet, and novelist. Vera Brittain. She is best known for her largely autobiographical work, TESTAMENT OF YOUTH (1933), a story of ‘the lost generation’ and the irrevocable changes in her life caused by World War I. This is a poem she wrote in memory of her fiance, Roland, who lost his life in the first World War, and took her heart with him.
PERHAPS
Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel once more I do not live in vain,
Although bereft of You.
Perhaps the golden meadows at my feet
Will make the sunny hours of spring seem gay,
And I shall find the white May-blossoms sweet,
Though You have passed away.
Perhaps the summer woods will shimmer bright,
And crimson roses once again be fair,
And autumn harvest fields a rich delight,
Although You are not there.
Perhaps some day I shall not shrink in pain
To see the passing of the dying year,
And listen to Christmas songs again,
Although You cannot hear.’
But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago.
