_For we hold that in all disaster-- As the Gods Themselves have said-- A Man must stand by his Master Till one of the two is dead._ That is our way of thinking, Now you can do as you will, While we try to save her from sinking And hold her head to it still. Bale her and keep her moving, Or she'll break her back in the trough.... Who said the weather's improving, Or the swells are taking off? Sodden, and chafed and aching, Gone in the loins and knees-- No matter--the day is breaking, And there's far less weight to the seas! Up mast, and finish baling-- In oars, and out with the mead-- The rest will be two-reef sailing.... That was a night indeed! _But we hold that in all disaster (And faith, we have found it true!) If only you stand by your master, The Gods will stand by you!_ MORNING SONG IN THE JUNGLE One moment past our bodies cast No shadow on the plain; Now clear and black they stride our track, And we run home again. In morning hush, each rock and bush Stands hard, and high, and raw: Then give the Call: '_Good rest to all_ _That keep the Jungle Law!'_ Now horn and pelt our peoples melt In covert to abide; Now, crouched and still, to cave and hill Our Jungle Barons glide. Now, stark and plain, Man's oxen strain, That draw the new-yoked plough; Now, stripped and dread, the dawn is red Above the lit _talao_. Ho! Get to lair! The sun's aflare Behind the breathing grass: And creaking through the young bamboo The warning whispers pass. By day made strange, the woods we range With blinking eyes we scan; While down the skies the wild duck cries: '_The Day--the Day to Man!_' The dew is dried that drenched our hide, Or washed about our way; And where we drank, the puddled bank Is crisping into clay. The traitor Dark gives up each mark Of stretched or hooded claw; Then hear the Call: '_Good rest to all That keep the Jungle Law!_' BLUE ROSES Roses red and roses white Plucked I for my love's delight. She would none of all my posies-- Bade me gather her blue roses. Half the world I wandered through, Seeking where such flowers grew; Half the world unto my quest Answered me with laugh and jest. Home I came at wintertide, But my silly love had died, Seeking with her latest breath Roses from the arms of Death. It may be beyond the grave She shall find what she would have. Mine was but an idle quest-- Roses white and red are best. A RIPPLE SONG Once a ripple came to land In the golden sunset burning-- Lapped against a maiden's hand, By the ford returning. _Dainty foot and gentle breast-- Here, across, be glad and rest. 'Maiden, wait,' the ripple saith; 'Wait awhile, for I am Death!'_ 'Where my lover calls I go-- Shame it were to treat him coldly-- 'Twas a fish that circled so, Turning over boldly.' _Dainty foot and tender heart, Wait the loaded ferry-cart. 'Wait, ah, wait!' the ripple saith; 'Maiden, wait, for I am Death!'_