The Years Between. Rudyard KiplingЧитать онлайн книгу.

      For all we have and are,

      For all our children's fate,

      Stand up and take the war,

      The Hun is at the gate!

      Our world has passed away,

      In wantonness o'erthrown.

      There is nothing left to-day

      But steel and fire and stone!

      Though all we knew depart,

      The old Commandments stand: —

      'In courage keep your heart,

      In strength lift up your hand.'

      Once more we hear the word

      That sickened earth of old: —

      'No law except the Sword

      Unsheathed and uncontrolled.'

      Once more it knits mankind,

      Once more the nations go

      To meet and break and bind

      A crazed and driven foe.

      Comfort, content, delight,

      The ages' slow-bought gain,

      They shrivelled in a night.

      Only ourselves remain

      To face the naked days

      In silent fortitude,

      Through perils and dismays

      Renewed and re-renewed.

      Though all we made depart,

      The old Commandments stand; —

      'In patience keep your heart,

      In strength lift up your hand.'

      No easy hope or lies

      Shall bring us to our goal,

      But iron sacrifice

      Of body, will, and soul.

      There is but one task for all —

      One life for each to give

      Who stands if Freedom fall?

      Who dies if England live?

      Be well assured that on our side

      The abiding oceans fight,

      Though headlong wind and heaping tide

      Make us their sport to-night.

      By force of weather not of war

      In jeopardy we steer,

      Then welcome Fate's discourtesy

      Whereby it shall appear,

      How in all time of our distress,

      And our deliverance too,

      The game is more than the player of the game,

      And the ship is more than the crew.

      Out of the mist into the mirk

      The glimmering combers roll.

      Almost these mindless waters work

      As though they had a soul —

      Almost as though they leagued to whelm

      Our flag beneath their green

      Then welcome Fate's discourtesy

      Whereby it shall be seen, etc.

      Be well assured, though wave and wind

      Have weightier blows in store,

      That we who keep the watch assigned

      Must stand to it the more;

      And as our streaming bows rebuke

      Each billow's baulked career,

      Sing, welcome Fate's discourtesy

      Whereby it is made clear, etc.

      No matter though our deck be swept

      And masts and timber crack —

      We can make good all loss except

      The loss of turning back.

      So, 'twixt these Devils and our deep

      Let courteous trumpets sound,

      To welcome Fate's discourtesy

      Whereby it will be found, etc.

      Be well assured, though in our power

      Is nothing left to give

      But chance and place to meet the hour,

      And leave to strive to live,

      Till these dissolve our Order holds,

      Our Service binds us here.

      Then welcome Fate's discourtesy

      Whereby it is made clear,

      How in all time of our distress,

      And in our triumph too,

      The game is more than the player of the game,

      And the ship is more than the crew!

      Through learned and laborious years

      They set themselves to find

      Fresh terrors and undreamed-of fears

      To heap upon mankind.

      All that they drew from Heaven above

      Or digged from earth beneath,

      They laid into their treasure-trove

      And arsenals of death:

      While, for well-weighed advantage sake,

      Ruler and ruled alike

      Built up the faith they meant to break

      When the fit hour should strike.

      They traded with the careless earth,

      And good return it gave;

      They plotted by their neighbour's hearth

      The means to make him slave.

      When all was ready to their hand

      They loosed their hidden sword,

      And utterly laid waste a land

      Their oath was pledged to guard.

      Coldly they went about to raise

      To life and make more dread

      Abominations of old days,

      That men believed were dead.

      They paid the price to reach their goal

      Across a world in flame;

      But their own hate slew their own soul

      Before that victory came.

      The Doorkeepers of Zion,

      They do not always stand

      In helmet and whole armour,

      With halberds in their hand,

      But, being sure of Zion,

      And all her mysteries,

      They rest awhile in Zion,

      Sit down and smile in Zion;

      Ay, even