Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling
When that with meat and drink they had fulfilled
Not temperately but like him conceived
In monstrous jest at Meudon, whose regale
Stands for exemplar of Gargantuan greed,
In his own name supreme, they issued forth
Beneath new firmaments and stars astray,
Circumvoluminant; nor had they felt
Neither the passage nor the sad effect
Of many cups partaken, till that frost
Wrought on them hideous, and their minds deceived.
Thus choosing from a progeny of roads,
That seemed but were not, one most reasonable,
Of purest moonlight fashioned on a wall,
Thither they urged their chariot whom that flint
But tressed received, itself unscathed—not they.