Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511115" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Song Of The Dead</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hear now the Song of the Dead -- in the North by the torn berg-edges --<br> They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide-stripped sledges.<br> Song of the Dead in the South -- in the sun by their skeleton horses,<br> Where the warrigal whimpers and bays through the dust<br> of the sear river-courses.<br> <br> Song of the Dead in the East -- in the heat-rotted jungle hollows,<br> Where the dog-ape barks in the kloof --<br> in the brake of the buffalo-wallows.<br> Song of the Dead in the West --<br> in the Barrens, the waste that betrayed them,<br> Where the wolverene tumbles their packs<br> from the camp and the grave-mound they made them;<br>  Hear now the Song of the Dead!<br> <br> <br> I<br> <br>We were dreamers, dreaming greatly, in the man-stifled town;<br>We yearned beyond the sky-line where the strange roads go down.<br>Came the Whisper, came the Vision, came the Power with the Need,<br>Till the Soul that is not man's soul was lent us to lead.<br>As the deer breaks -- as the steer breaks -- from the herd where they graze,<br>In the faith of little children we went on our ways.<br>Then the wood failed -- then the food failed -- then the last water dried --<br>In the faith of little children we lay down and died.<br>On the sand-drift -- on the veldt-side -- in the fern-scrub we lay,<br>That our sons might follow after by the bones on the way.<br>Follow after -- follow after! We have watered the root,<br>And the bud has come to blossom that ripens for fruit!<br>Follow after -- we are waiting, by the trails that we lost,<br>For the sounds of many footsteps, for the tread of a host.<br>Follow after -- follow after -- for the harvest is sown:<br>By the bones about the wayside ye shall come to your own!<br> <br> When Drake went down to the Horn<br> And England was crowned thereby,<br> 'Twixt seas unsailed and shores unhailed<br> Our Lodge -- our Lodge was born<br> (And England was crowned thereby!)<br> <br> Which never shall close again<br> By day nor yet by night,<br> While man shall take his life to stake<br> At risk of shoal or main<br> (By day nor yet by night).<br> <br> But standeth even so<br> As now we witness here,<br> While men depart, of joyful heart,<br> Adventure for to know<br> (As now bear witness here!)<br> <br> <br> II<br> <br>We have fed our sea for a thousand years<br> And she calls us, still unfed,<br>Though there's never a wave of all her waves<br> But marks our English dead:<br>We have strawed our best to the weed's unrest,<br> To the shark and the sheering gull.<br>If blood be the price of admiralty,<br> Lord God, we ha' paid in full!<br> <br>There's never a flood goes shoreward now<br> But lifts a keel we manned;<br>There's never an ebb goes seaward now<br> But drops our dead on the sand --<br>But slinks our dead on the sands forlore,<br> From the Ducies to the Swin.<br>If blood be the price of admiralty,<br>If blood be the price of admiralty,<br> Lord God, we ha' paid it in!<br> <br>We must feed our sea for a thousand years,<br> For that is our doom and pride,<br>As it was when they sailed with the ~Golden Hind~,<br> Or the wreck that struck last tide --<br>Or the wreck that lies on the spouting reef<br> Where the ghastly blue-lights flare.<br>If blood be the price of admiralty,<br>If blood be the price of admiralty,<br>If blood be the price of admiralty,<br> Lord God, we ha' bought it fair!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rudyard+Kipling">Rudyard Kipling</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511115" data-title="The Song Of The Dead de Rudyard Kipling" data-description="Hear now the Song of the Dead -- in the North by the torn berg-edges --
 They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide-stripped sledges.
 Song of the Dead in the South -- in the sun by their skeleton horses,
 Where the warrigal whimpers a..."></div>
</div>
</div>