Go forth, oh, wind, our message on thy wings, And they shall hear thee pass and bid thee speed, In red-roofed hut, or white-walled home of kings, Who have been helped by her in their need. All spring shall give thee fragrance, and the wheat Shall be a tasselled floor-cloth to thy feet.
Haste, for our hearts are with thee, take no rest, Loud-voiced ambassador, from sea to sea Proclaim the blessing, manifold, confest, Of those in darkness by her hand set free; Then very softly to her presence move, And whisper: "Lady, lo, they know and love!"
Take up the White Man's burden-- Send forth the best ye breed-- Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need; To wait in heavy harness, On fluttered folk and wild-- Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half-devil and half child.
Take up the White Man's burden-- In patience to abide, To veil the threat of terror And check the show of pride; By open speech and simple, An hundred times made plain, To seek another's profit, And work another's gain.
Take up the White Man's burden-- The savage wars of peace-- Fill full the mouth of Famine And bid the sickness cease; And when your goal is nearest The end for others sought, Watch Sloth and heathen Folly Bring all your hope to naught.
Take up the White Man's burden-- No tawdry rule of kings, But toil of serf and sweeper-- The tale of common things. The ports ye shall not enter, The roads ye shall not tread, Go make them with your living, And mark them with your dead.
Take up the White Man's burden-- And reap his old reward; The blame of those ye better, The hate of those ye guard-- The cry of hosts ye humour (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:-- "Why brought ye us from bondage, Our loved Egyptian night?"
Take up the White Man's burden-- Ye dare not stoop to less-- Nor call too loud on Freedom To cloak your weariness; By all ye cry or whisper, By all ye leave or do, The silent, sullen peoples Shall weigh your Gods and you.
Take up the White Man's burden-- Have done with childish days-- The lightly proffered laurel The easy, ungrudged praise. Comes now, to search your manhood Through all the thankless years, Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom, The judgment of your peers!
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kipling Stories and Poems Every Child Should Know, Book II, by Rudyard Kipling