Rudyard kipling the betrothed. Poetry Lovers' Page 2019-01-04

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Kipling: The Betrothed

rudyard kipling the betrothed

By the end of the week there were some 75,000 casualties, two-thirds of them British. If remains Britain's favourite poem. Kipling composed many of his poems while living for several years in the United States in the mid-1890s. Open the old cigar-box -- let me a while. If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse! Which is the better portion—bondage bought with a ring, Or a harem of dusky beauties fifty tied in a string? There's peace in a Laranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay, But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away — Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown — But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town! Which is the better portion - bondage bought with a ring, Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string? A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke; And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke. He learned Hindi from his nurse, and he also learned stories of jungle animals.

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Kipling: The Betrothed

rudyard kipling the betrothed

And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are, And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar, The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket, With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket! As apparent from his stories and poems, Kipling interested himself in the romance and adventure which he found in Great Britain's colonial expansion. Light me another Cuba -- I hold to my first-sworn vows. Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire? Open the old cigar-box - let me consider a while. Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out. Since a puff of can it, I the fire? If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse! We quarrelled about Havanas -- we fought o'er a good cheroot, And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.

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If—

rudyard kipling the betrothed

A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke; And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke. And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are, And Love’s torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar— The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket— With never a new one to light tho’ it’s charred and black to the socket! The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main, When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again. Counsellors cunning and silent, comforters true and tried, And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride? We about -- we o'er a good cheroot, And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute. We quarreled about Havanas — we fought o'er a good cheroot, And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute. And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear, But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year; And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight. I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides, And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides. The world must be saved from the German.

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Long Poem The Betrothed Lyrics — wslive.com

rudyard kipling the betrothed

If will have no rival, I'll have no for Spouse! Will it see me safe through my journey, or leave me bogged in the mire? We quarrelled about Havanas - we fought o'er a good cheroot, And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute. I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal, So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall. When they are spent and dead, Five times other fifties shall be my servants in- stead. For has a to give me my between The wee whimpering Love and the god Nick o' Teen. And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are, And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar - The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket - With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket! ~The Betrothed If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; ~If, Rudyard Kipling More Info On- , , , , Found info useful? And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove, But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love.

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The Betrothed by Rudyard Kipling

rudyard kipling the betrothed

For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen. But he was not just the shallow imperialist that his critics tried to make him appear. When they are spent and dead, Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead. Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes, Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close, This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return, With only a Suttee’s passion—to do their duty and burn. Loos was also to transform the way Britain's war dead were remembered.

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The Betrothed. Rudyard Kipling. 1922. Verse: 1885

rudyard kipling the betrothed

Maggie, my wife at fifty — gray and dour and old — With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold! Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out. Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a while. I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides, And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides. Maggie is pretty to look at -- Maggie's a loving lass, But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass. Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider a space; In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.

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The Betrothed. Rudyard Kipling. 1922. Verse: 1885

rudyard kipling the betrothed

Which is the better portion -- bondage bought with a ring, Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string? Fielding, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason Picador 2000 p. Will it see me safe my or me in the mire? He believes that it is through this research that the claim that John's remains are in the Commonwealth War Graves Commission can be disproved. When they are spent and dead, Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead. The young Kipling found himself embarrassed by his father's celebrity, particularly aged 12 after the publication of If - the poem dedicated to him. He was fond of cricket but not reading. For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice betweenThe wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen. The Kiplings were devastated; the effect of losing another child was incalculable.

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My Boy Jack, by Rudyard Kipling

rudyard kipling the betrothed

For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen. And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love. This will the fifty give me. ~The Betrothed Maggie, my wife at fifty—grey and dour and old— With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold! And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear, But I have been priest of Partagas a matter of seven year; And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleas- ure and Work and Fight. Kipling was born on Dec. He was also known as a leading supporter of the British Empire.

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The Betrothed poem

rudyard kipling the betrothed

Open the old cigar-box — let me consider a space; In the soft blue veil of the vapor, musing on Maggie's face. The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again. As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back -- For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack. If Maggie will have no rival, I’ll have no Maggie for Spouse! In many of his works, Kipling seemed to imply that it was the duty of Great Britain to carry the white man's burden by civilizing backward races. Here is a mild Manila, there is a wifely smile. Maggie, my wife at fifty—grey and dour and old— With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold! I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides, And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides. There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away --Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown --But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town! These same lines appear at the in , where the was played.


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