The Years Between (poetry)

The Years Between is a book of poetry by Rudyard Kipling, first published in 1919. Quotes Epitaphs of the War thumb|250px|If any question why we died,Tell them, because our fathers lied. thumb|250px|From little towns in a far land we came,To save our honour and a world aflame.By little towns in a far land we sleep,And trust the world we won for you to keep. thumb|250px|Now all my lies are proved untrue And I must face the men I slew. What tale shall serve me here among Mine angry and defrauded young? A. “I was a Have.” B. “I was a ‘have-not.’”(Together.) “What hast thou given which I gave not?” “Equality of Sacrifice” We were together since the War began.He was my servant—and the better man. A Servant My son was killed while laughing at some jest. I would I knewWhat it was, and it might serve me in a time when jests are few. A Son I have slain none except my Mother.She (Blessing her slayer) died of grief for me. An Only Son Pity not! The Army gaveFreedom to a timid slave:In which Freedom did he findStrength of body, will, and mind:By which strength he came to proveMirth, Companionship, and Love:For which Love to Death he went:In which Death he lies content. Ex-Clerk Body and Spirit I surrendered wholeTo harsh Instructors—and received a soul ...If mortal man could change me through and throughFrom all I was—what may The God not do? The Wonder This man in his own country prayed we know not to what Powers.We pray Them to reward him for his bravery in ours. Hindu Sepoy in France I could not look on Death, which being known,Men led me to him, blindfold and alone. The Coward My name, my speech, my self I had forgot.My wife and children came—I knew them not.I died. My Mother followed. At her callAnd on her bosom I remembered all. Shock Gods of the Nile, should this stout fellow hereGet out—get out! He knows not shame nor fear. A Grave Near Cairo The blown sand heaps on me, that none may learn  Where I am laid for whom my children grieve. ...O wings that beat at dawning, ye return  Out of the desert to your young at eve! Pelicans in the Wilderness (A Grave Near Halfa) Death favoured me from the first, well knowing I could not endure  To wait on him day by day. He quitted my betters and cameWhistling over the fields, and, when he had made all sure,  “Thy line is at end,” he said, “but at least I have saved its name.” The Favour On the first hour of my first day  In the front trench I fell.(Children in boxes at a play  Stand up to watch it well.) The Beginner Laughing through clouds, his milk-teeth still unshed,Cities and men he smote from overhead.His deaths delivered, he returned to playChildlike, with childish things now put away. R.A.F. (Aged Eighteen) I was of delicate mind. I stepped aside for my needs,  Disdaining the common office. I was seen from afar and killed...How is this matter for mirth? Let each man be judged by his deeds.  I have paid my price to live with myself on the terms that I willed. The Refined Man Prometheus brought down fire to men.  This brought up water.The Gods are jealous—now, as then,  Giving no quarter. Native Water-Carrier (M.E.F.) On land and sea I strove with anxious careTo escape conscription. It was in the air! Bombed in London Faithless the watch that I kept: now I have none to keep.I was slain because I slept: now I am slain I sleep.Let no man reproach me again; whatever watch is unkept—I sleep because I am slain. They slew me because I slept. The Sleepy Sentinel If any mourn us in the workshop, sayWe died because the shift kept holiday. Batteries out of Ammunition If any question why we died,Tell them, because our fathers lied. Common Form I could not dig: I dared not rob:Therefore I lied to please the mob.Now all my lies are proved untrueAnd I must face the men I slew.What tale shall serve me here amongMine angry and defrauded young? If I had clamoured at Thy Gate  For gift of Life on Earth,And, thrusting through the souls that wait,  Flung headlong into birth—Even then, even then, for gin and snare  About my pathway spread,Lord, I had mocked Thy thoughtful care  Before I joined the Dead!But now? ... I was beneath Thy Hand  Ere yet the Planets came.And now—though Planets pass, I stand  The witness to Thy shame. The Rebel Daily, though no ears attended,  Did my prayers arise.Daily, though no fire descended  Did I sacrifice.Though my darkness did not lift,  Though I faced no lighter odds,Though the Gods bestowed no gift,        None the less,None the less, I served the Gods! The Obedient He from the wind-bitten north with ship and companions descended.  Searching for eggs of death spawned by invisible hulls.Many he found and drew forth. Of a sudden the fishery ended  In flame and a clamorous breath not new to the eye-pecking gulls. A Drifter off Tarentum For Fog and Fate no charm is found  To lighten or amend.I, hurrying to my bride, was drowned—  Cut down by my best friend. Destroyers in Collision I was a shepherd to fools  Causelessly bold or afraid.They would not abide by my rules.  Yet they escaped. For I stayed. Convoy Escort Headless, lacking foot and hand,Horrible I come to land.I beseech all women’s sonsKnow I was a mother once. Unknown Female Corpse One used and butchered me: another spiedMe broken—for which thing an hundred died.So it was learned among the heathen hostsHow much a freeborn woman’s favour costs. Raped and Revenged I have watched a thousand daysPush out and crawl into nightSlowly as tortoises.Now I, too, follow these.It is fever, and not the fight—Time, not battle—that slays. Salonikan Grave Call me not false, beloved,  If, from thy scarce-known breastSo little time removed,  In other arms I rest.For this more ancient bride  Whom coldly I embraceWas constant at my side  Before I saw thy face.Our marriage, often set—  By miracle delayed—At last is consummate,  And cannot be unmade.Live, then, whom Life shall cure.  Almost, of Memory,And leave us to endure  Its immortality. The Bridegroom Ah, would swift ships had never been, for then we ne’er had found,These harsh Ægean rocks between, this little virgin drowned,Whom neither spouse nor child shall mourn, but men she nursed through painAnd—certain keels for whose return the heathen look in vain. V. A. D. (Mediterranean) We counterfeited once for your disport  Men’s joy and sorrow: but our day has passed.We pray you pardon all where we fell short  Seeing we were your servants to this last. Actors (On a Memorial Tablet in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon) We have served our day. Journalists (On a Panel in the Hall of the Institute of Journalists) External links "Epitaphs of the War", Wikisource (23 May 2022) "The Years Between", The Kipling Society (26 March 2019) Category:Poetry