Biography

France at War: On the Frontier of Civilization

Rudyard Kipling

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France at War: On the Frontier of Civilization

by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

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_Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul, Furious in luxury, merciless in toil, Terrible with strength that draws from her tireless soil, Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of men's mind, First to follow truth and last to leave old truths behind-- France beloved of every soul that loves its fellow-kind._

Ere our birth (rememberest thou?) side by side we lay Fretting in the womb of Rome to begin the fray. Ere men knew our tongues apart, our one taste was known-- Each must mould the other's fate as he wrought his own. To this end we stirred mankind till all earth was ours, Till our world-end strifes began wayside thrones and powers, Puppets that we made or broke to bar the other's path-- Necessary, outpost folk, hirelings of our wrath. To this end we stormed the seas, tack for tack, and burst Through the doorways of new worlds, doubtful which was first. Hand on hilt (rememberest thou?), ready for the blow. Sure whatever else we met we should meet our foe. Spurred or baulked at ev'ry stride by the other's strength, So we rode the ages down and every ocean's length; Where did you refrain from us or we refrain from you? Ask the wave that has not watched war between us two. Others held us for a while, but with weaker charms, These we quitted at the call for each other's arms. Eager toward the known delight, equally we strove, Each the other's mystery, terror, need, and love. To each other's open court with our proofs we came, Where could we find honour else or men to test the claim? From each other's throat we wrenched valour's last reward, That extorted word of praise gasped 'twixt lunge and guard. In each other's cup we poured mingled blood and tears, Brutal joys, unmeasured hopes, intolerable fears, All that soiled or salted life for a thousand years. Proved beyond the need of proof, matched in every clime, O companion, we have lived greatly through all time: Yoked in knowledge and remorse now we come to rest, Laughing at old villainies that time has turned to jest, Pardoning old necessity no pardon can efface-- That undying sin we shared in Rouen market-place. Now we watch the new years shape, wondering if they hold Fiercer lighting in their hearts than we launched of old. Now we hear new voices rise, question, boast or gird, As we raged (rememberest thou?) when our crowds were stirred. Now we count new keels afloat, and new hosts on land, Massed liked ours (rememberest thou?) when our strokes were planned. We were schooled for dear life sake, to know each other's blade: What can blood and iron make more than we have made? We have learned by keenest use to know each other's mind: What shall blood and iron loose that we cannot bind? We who swept each other's coast, sacked each other's home, Since the sword of Brennus clashed on the scales at Rome, Listen, court and close again, wheeling girth to girth, In the strained and bloodless guard set for peace on earth.

_Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul, Furious in luxury, merciless in toil, Terrible with strength renewed from a tireless soil, Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of men's mind, First to follow truth and last to leave old truths behind, France beloved of every soul that loves or serves its kind._

*First published June 24, 1913.

I

ON THE FRONTIER OF CIVILIZATION

"It's a pretty park," said the French artillery officer. "We've done a lot for it since the owner left. I hope he'll appreciate it when he comes back."

The car traversed a winding drive through woods, between banks embellished with little chalets of a rustic nature. At first, the chalets stood their full height above ground, suggesting tea-gardens in England. Further on they sank into the earth till, at the top of the ascent, only their solid brown roofs showed. Torn branches drooping across the driveway, with here and there a scorched patch of undergrowth, explained the reason of their modesty.

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France at War: On the Frontier of Civilization by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) is free to read in full. Folio serves it in daily portions you can actually finish, tracks your streak and reading position across devices, and reads every page aloud with a built-in narrator. The text comes from Project Gutenberg.

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