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<p id="id00007" style="margin-top: 4em">Produced by David S. Miller</p>
<p id="id00008" style="margin-top: 4em">FRANCE AT WAR<br/>
On the Frontier of Civilization<br/></p>
<h5 id="id00009">BY
RUDYARD KIPLING</h5>
<p id="id00010" style="margin-top: 2em">1915</p>
<h2 id="id00011" style="margin-top: 4em">CONTENTS</h2>
<p id="id00012">Poem: France<br/>
I. On the Frontier of Civilization<br/>
II. The Nation's Spirit and a New Inheritance<br/>
III. Battle Spectacle and a Review<br/>
IV. The Spirit of the People<br/>
V. Life in Trenches on the Mountain Side<br/>
VI. The Common Task of a Great People<br/></p>
<p id="id00013" style="margin-top: 3em">FRANCE AT WAR<br/>
On the Frontier of Civilization<br/></p>
<h4 id="id00014" style="margin-top: 2em">FRANCE*
BY RUDYARD KIPLING</h4>
<p id="id00015"><i>Broke to every known mischance, lifted over
all
By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of
the Gaul,
Furious in luxury, merciless in toil,
Terrible with strength that draws from her
tireless soil,
Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of
men's mind,
First to follow truth and last to leave old
truths behind—
France beloved of every soul that loves its
fellow-kind.</i></p>
<p id="id00016">Ere our birth (rememberest thou?) side<br/>
by side we lay<br/>
Fretting in the womb of Rome to begin<br/>
the fray.<br/>
Ere men knew our tongues apart, our one<br/>
taste was known—<br/>
Each must mould the other's fate as he<br/>
wrought his own.<br/>
To this end we stirred mankind till all<br/>
earth was ours,<br/>
Till our world-end strifes began wayside<br/>
thrones and powers,<br/>
Puppets that we made or broke to bar<br/>
the other's path—<br/>
Necessary, outpost folk, hirelings of our<br/>
wrath.<br/>
To this end we stormed the seas, tack for<br/>
tack, and burst<br/>
Through the doorways of new worlds,<br/>
doubtful which was first.<br/>
Hand on hilt (rememberest thou?), ready<br/>
for the blow.<br/>
Sure whatever else we met we should<br/>
meet our foe.<br/>
Spurred or baulked at ev'ry stride by the<br/>
other's strength,<br/>
So we rode the ages down and every ocean's<br/>
length;<br/>
Where did you refrain from us or we<br/>
refrain from you?<br/>
Ask the wave that has not watched war<br/>
between us two.<br/>
Others held us for a while, but with<br/>
weaker charms,<br/>
These we quitted at the call for each<br/>
other's arms.<br/>
Eager toward the known delight, equally<br/>
we strove,<br/>
Each the other's mystery, terror, need,<br/>
and love.<br/>
To each other's open court with our<br/>
proofs we came,<br/>
Where could we find honour else or men<br/>
to test the claim?<br/>
From each other's throat we wrenched<br/>
valour's last reward,<br/>
That extorted word of praise gasped<br/>
'twixt lunge and guard.<br/>
In each other's cup we poured mingled<br/>
blood and tears,<br/>
Brutal joys, unmeasured hopes,<br/>
intolerable fears,<br/>
All that soiled or salted life for a thousand<br/>
years.<br/>
Proved beyond the need of proof, matched<br/>
in every clime,<br/>
O companion, we have lived greatly<br/>
through all time:<br/>
Yoked in knowledge and remorse now we<br/>
come to rest,<br/>
Laughing at old villainies that time has<br/>
turned to jest,<br/>
Pardoning old necessity no pardon can<br/>
efface—<br/>
That undying sin we shared in Rouen<br/>
market-place.<br/>
Now we watch the new years shape,<br/>
wondering if they hold<br/>
Fiercer lighting in their hearts than we<br/>
launched of old.<br/>
Now we hear new voices rise, question,<br/>
boast or gird,<br/>
As we raged (rememberest thou?) when<br/>
our crowds were stirred.<br/>
Now we count new keels afloat, and new<br/>
hosts on land,<br/>
Massed liked ours (rememberest thou?)<br/>
when our strokes were planned.<br/>
We were schooled for dear life sake, to<br/>
know each other's blade:<br/>
What can blood and iron make more than<br/>
we have made?<br/>
We have learned by keenest use to know<br/>
each other's mind:<br/>
What shall blood and iron loose that we<br/>
cannot bind?<br/>
We who swept each other's coast, sacked<br/>
each other's home,<br/>
Since the sword of Brennus clashed on<br/>
the scales at Rome,<br/>
Listen, court and close again, wheeling<br/>
girth to girth,<br/>
In the strained and bloodless guard set<br/>
for peace on earth.<br/></p>
<p id="id00017"><i>Broke to every known mischance, lifted over
all
By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of
the Gaul,
Furious in luxury, merciless in toil,
Terrible with strength renewed from a
tireless soil,
Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of
men's mind,
First to follow truth and last to leave old
truths behind,
France beloved of every soul that loves or
serves its kind.</i></p>
<p id="id00018">*First published June 24, 1913.</p>
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