Rudyard Kipling

(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)

Rudyard Kipling Poems

1. Hymn of Breaking Strain 8/26/2015
2. The Songs Of The Lathes 12/31/2002
3. The Landau 1/3/2003
4. The Ballad Of Fisher's Boarding-House 12/31/2002
5. The North Sea Patrol 1/3/2003
6. The Ballad Of Bolivar 12/31/2002
7. The Song Of The Sons 12/31/2002
8. The Lowestoft Boat 1/3/2003
9. Untitled [you Mustn'T Swim Till You'Re Six Weeks Old] 11/28/2014
10. The Coiner 1/3/2003
11. The Lament Of The Border Cattle Thief 12/31/2002
12. The Press 1/3/2003
13. The Last Chantey 12/31/2002
14. The City Of Brass 3/24/2010
15. The Ballad Of Ahmed Shah 3/29/2010
16. The Song Of The Old Guard 12/31/2002
17. The Parting of the Column 6/10/2015
18. The Legend Of The Foreign Office 1/3/2003
19. The Bother 1/3/2003
20. The Jacket 12/31/2002
21. The Ballad Of Minepit Shaw 1/3/2003
22. The Braggart 1/3/2003
23. The Conversion Of Aurelian Mcgoggin 1/3/2003
24. 'Tin Fish' 3/3/2015
25. The Appeal 3/29/2010
26. There Was A Small Boy Of Quebec 2/3/2015
27. The Liner She's A Lady 12/31/2002
28. To Thomas Atkins 12/31/2002
29. The Master-Cook 1/3/2003
30. The Spies' March 12/31/2002
31. The Fall Of Jock Gillespie 1/3/2003
32. The New Knighthood 1/3/2003
33. The Legends Of Evil 1/1/2004
34. The Last Suttee 12/31/2002
35. The Song Of The Cities 12/31/2002
36. The Man Who Could Write 1/3/2003
37. The Dying Chauffeur 1/3/2003
38. The Coastwise Lights 12/31/2002
39. The Comforters 1/3/2003
40. To Motorists 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Rudyard Kipling


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the ...

Read the full of If


The People of the Eastern Ice, they are melting like the snow--
They beg for coffee and sugar; they go where the white men go.
The People of the Western Ice, they learn to steal and fight;
They sell their furs to the trading-post; they sell their souls to
the white.
The People of the Southern Ice, they trade with the whaler's
Their women have many ribbons, but their tents are torn and few.
But the People of the Elder Ice, beyond the white man's ken--

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