Rudyard Kipling

Jane Smith

               1 

I journeyed, on a winter's day, 
   Across the lonely wold;
No bird did sing upon the spray, 
   And it was very cold.

               2 

I had a coach with horses four,
   Three white (though one was black), 
And on they went the common o'er,
   Nor swiftness did they lack.

               3 

A little girl ran by the side,
   And she was pinched and thin.
'Oh, please, sir, do give me a ride!
   I'm fetching mother's gin.'

               4 

'Enter my coach, sweet child,' said I; 
  'For you shall ride with me,
And I will get you your supply 
  Of mother's eau-de-vie.'

               5 

The publican was stern and cold, 
  And said:'Her mother's score
Is writ, as you shall soon behold, 
  Behind the bar-room door!'

               6 

I blotted out the score with tears, 
  And paid the money down,
And took the maid of thirteen years 
  Back to her mother's town.

               7 

And though the past with surges wild 
  Fond memories may sever,
The vision of that happy child 
  Will leave my spirit never!