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Rudyard Kipling
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Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling

The Children's Song

Puck of Pook's Hills
Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee Our love and toil in the years to be; When we are grown and take our place As men and women with our race. Father in Heaven who lovest all, Oh, help Thy children when they call; That they may build from age to age An undefiled heritage. Teach us to bear the yoke in youth, With steadfastness and careful truth; That, in our time, Thy Grace may give The Truth whereby the Nations live. Teach us to rule ourselves alway, Controlled and cleanly night and day; That we may bring, if need arise, No maimed or worthless sacrifice. Teach us to look in all our ends On Thee for judge, and not our friends; That we, with Thee, may walk uncowed By fear or favour of the crowd. Teach us the Strength that cannot seek, By deed or thought, to hurt the weak; That, under Thee, we may possess Man's strength to comfort man's distress. Teach us Delight in simple things, And Mirth that has no bitter springs; Forgiveness free of evil done, And Love to all men 'neath the sun! Land of our Birth, our faith, our pride, For whose dear sake our fathers died; Oh, Motherland, we pledge to thee Head, heart and hand through the years to be!

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