________________________________________________
Title: The Galley Slave
Author: Rudyard Kipling [
More Titles by Kipling]
Oh, gallant was our galley from her carven steering-wheel
To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered steel;
The leg-bar chafed the ankle, and we gasped for cooler air,
But no galley on the water with our galley could compare!
Our bulkheads bulged with cotton and our masts were stepped in gold--
We ran a mighty merchandise of Negroes in the hold;
The white foam spun behind us, and the black shark swam below,
As we gripped the kicking sweep-head and we made that galley go.
It was merry in the galley, for we revelled now and then--
If they wore us down like cattle, faith, we fought and loved like men!
As we snatched her through the water, so we snatched a minute's bliss,
And the mutter of the dying never spoiled the lover's kiss.
Our women and our children toiled beside us in the dark--
They died, we filed their fetters, and we heaved them to the shark--
We heaved them to the fishes, but so fast the galley sped,
We had only time to envy, for we could not mourn our dead.
Bear witness, once my comrades, what a hard-bit gang were we--
The servants of the sweep-head, but the masters of the sea!
By the hands that drove her forward as she plunged and yawed and
sheered,
Woman, Man, or God, or Devil, was there anything we feared?
Was it storm? Our fathers faced it, and a wilder never blew;
Earth that waited for the wreckage watched the galley struggle through.
Burning noon or choking midnight, Sickness, Sorrow, Parting, Death?
Nay our very babes would mock you, had they time for idle breath.
But to-day I leave the galley, and another takes my place;
There's my name upon the deck-beam--let it stand a little space.
I am free--to watch my messmates beating out to open main,
Free of all that Life can offer--save to handle sweep again.
By the brand upon my shoulder, by the gall of clinging steel,
By the welt the whips have left me, by the scars that never heal;
By eyes grown old with staring through the sun-wash on the brine,
I am paid in full for service--would that service still were mine!
* * * * *
It may be that Fate will give me life and leave to row once more--
Set some strong man free for fighting as I take awhile his oar.
But to-day I leave the galley. Shall I curse her service then?
God be thanked--whate'er comes after, I have lived and toiled with men!
[The end]
Rudyard Kipling's poem: Galley Slave
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
