The Bonfires


    We know the Rocket¬ís upward whizz;
    We know the Boom before the Bust.
    We know the whistling Wail which is
    The Stick returning to the Dust.
    We know how much to take on trust
    Of any promised Paradise.
    We know the Pie, likewise the Crust.
    We know the Bonfire on the Ice.
    We know the Mountain and the Mouse.
    We know Great Cry and Little Wool.
    We know the purseless Ears of Sows.
    We know the Frog that aped the Bull.
    We know, whatever Trick we pull,
    (Ourselves have gambled once or twice)
    A Bobtailed Flush is not a Full.
    We know the Bonfire on the Ice.
    We know that Ones and Ones make Twos, 
    Till Demos votes them Three or Nought.
    We know the Fenris Wolf is loose.
    We know what Fight has not been fought.
    We know the Father to the Thought
    Which argues Babe and Cockatrice
    Would play together, were they taught.
    We know that Bonfire on the Ice.
    We know that Thriving comes by Thrift.
    We know the Key must keep the Door.
    We know his Boot-straps cannot lift
    The frightened Waster off the Floor.
    We know these things, and we deplore
    That not by any Artifice
    Can they be altered. Furthermore
    We know the Bonfires on the Ice! 


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Return to the Rudyard Kipling library , or . . . Read the next poem; The Bother

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