The Kiplings and India: A Collection of Writings from British India, 1870-1900

The City of the Heart (Rudyard Kipling)


I passed through the lonely Indian town
  Deep sunk 'twixt the walls of wheat,
And the dogs that lived in the land came down
  And bayed at me in the street.

But I struck with my dog-whip o'er nose and back
  Of the yelping, yellow crew,
Till I cleared a pathway athwart the pack,
  And I and my horse went through.  

I passed through the streets of my haunted heart,
  In the hush of a hopeless night,
And from every alley a dog would start
  And bay my soul with affright. 

But I smote with the dog-whip of work and fact
  These evil things on the head,
Till I made of my heart a wholesome tract,
  Empty and garnishéd.

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