The Other Man (poem)

by


When the earth was sick and the skies were grey,
And the woods were rotted with rain,
The Dead Man rode through the autumn day
To visit his love again.

His love she neither saw nor heard,
So heavy was her shame;
And tho' the babe within her stirred
She knew not that he came.

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Return to the Rudyard Kipling Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Outlaws

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