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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538253" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Song Of The Sword--To Rudyard Kipling</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Sword<br>Singing -<br>The voice of the Sword from the heart of the Sword<br>Clanging imperious<br>Forth from Time's battlements<br>His ancient and triumphing Song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the beginning,<br>Ere God inspired Himself<br>Into the clay thing<br>Thumbed to His image,<br>The vacant, the naked shell<br>Soon to be Man:<br>Thoughtful He pondered it,<br>Prone there and impotent,<br>Fragile, inviting<br>Attack and discomfiture;<br>Then, with a smile -<br>As He heard in the Thunder<br>That laughed over Eden<br>The voice of the Trumpet,<br>The iron Beneficence,<br>Calling his dooms<br>To the Winds of the world -<br>Stooping, He drew<br>On the sand with His finger<br>A shape for a sign<br>Of his way to the eyes<br>That in wonder should waken,<br>For a proof of His will<br>To the breaking intelligence.<br>That was the birth of me:<br>I am the Sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bleak and lean, grey and cruel,<br>Short-hilted, long shafted,<br>I froze into steel;<br>And the blood of my elder,<br>His hand on the hafts of me,<br>Sprang like a wave<br>In the wind, as the sense<br>Of his strength grew to ecstasy;<br>Glowed like a coal<br>In the throat of the furnace;<br>As he knew me and named me<br>The War-Thing, the Comrade,<br>Father of honour<br>And giver of kingship,<br>The fame-smith, the song-master,<br>Bringer of women<br>On fire at his hands<br>For the pride of fulfilment,<br>PRIEST (saith the Lord)<br>OF HIS MARRIAGE WITH VICTORY<br>Ho! then, the Trumpet,<br>Handmaid of heroes,<br>Calling the peers<br>To the place of espousals!<br>Ho! then, the splendour<br>And glare of my ministry,<br>Clothing the earth<br>With a livery of lightnings!<br>Ho! then, the music<br>Of battles in onset,<br>And ruining armours,<br>And God's gift returning<br>In fury to God!<br>Thrilling and keen<br>As the song of the winter stars,<br>Ho! then, the sound<br>Of my voice, the implacable<br>Angel of Destiny! -<br>I am the Sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heroes, my children,<br>Follow, O, follow me!<br>Follow, exulting<br>In the great light that breaks<br>From the sacred Companionship!<br>Thrust through the fatuous,<br>Thrust through the fungous brood,<br>Spawned in my shadow<br>And gross with my gift!<br>Thrust through, and hearken<br>O, hark, to the Trumpet,<br>The Virgin of Battles,<br>Calling, still calling you<br>Into the Presence,<br>Sons of the Judgment,<br>Pure wafts of the Will!<br>Edged to annihilate,<br>Hilted with government,<br>Follow, O, follow me,<br>Till the waste places<br>All the grey globe over<br>Ooze, as the honeycomb<br>Drips, with the sweetness<br>Distilled of my strength,<br>And, teeming in peace<br>Through the wrath of my coming,<br>They give back in beauty<br>The dread and the anguish<br>They had of me visitant!<br>Follow, O follow, then,<br>Heroes, my harvesters!<br>Where the tall grain is ripe<br>Thrust in your sickles!<br>Stripped and adust<br>In a stubble of empire,<br>Scything and binding<br>The full sheaves of sovranty:<br>Thus, O, thus gloriously,<br>Shall you fulfil yourselves!<br>Thus, O, thus mightily,<br>Show yourselves sons of mine -<br>Yea, and win grace of me:<br>I am the Sword!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the feast-maker:<br>Hark, through a noise<br>Of the screaming of eagles,<br>Hark how the Trumpet,<br>The mistress of mistresses,<br>Calls, silver-throated<br>And stern, where the tables<br>Are spread, and the meal<br>Of the Lord is in hand!<br>Driving the darkness,<br>Even as the banners<br>And spears of the Morning;<br>Sifting the nations,<br>The slag from the metal,<br>The waste and the weak<br>From the fit and the strong;<br>Fighting the brute,<br>The abysmal Fecundity;<br>Checking the gross,<br>Multitudinous blunders,<br>The groping, the purblind<br>Excesses in service<br>Of the Womb universal,<br>The absolute drudge;<br>Firing the charactry<br>Carved on the World,<br>The miraculous gem<br>In the seal-ring that burns<br>On the hand of the Master -<br>Yea! and authority<br>Flames through the dim,<br>Unappeasable Grisliness<br>Prone down the nethermost<br>Chasms of the Void! -<br>Clear singing, clean slicing;<br>Sweet spoken, soft finishing;<br>Making death beautiful,<br>Life but a coin<br>To be staked in the pastime<br>Whose playing is more<br>Than the transfer of being;<br>Arch-anarch, chief builder,<br>Prince and evangelist,<br>I am the Will of God:<br>I am the Sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Sword<br>Singing -<br>The voice of the Sword from the heart of the Sword<br>Clanging majestical,<br>As from the starry-staired<br>Courts of the primal Supremacy,<br>His high, irresistible song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Ernest+Henley">William Ernest Henley</a><div class=q>
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<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=538253" data-title="The Song Of The Sword--To Rudyard Kipling de William Ernest Henley" data-description="The Sword
Singing -
The voice of the Sword from the heart of the Sword
Clanging imperious
Forth from Time's battlements
His ancient and triumphing Song.

In the beginning,
Ere God inspired Himself
Into the clay thing
Thumbed to His image,
The vaca..."></div>
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