To Rudyard Kipling
What need have you of praising? Could I find
Some lonely poet no one praises yet,
Him rather would I choose, that he might know
A fellow-craftsman knew him, marked him, loved.
But you—the whole world praises you. What need
Have you of any speech I have to give?
Yet for the craft’s sake I must give you praise;
And for the craft’s sake you will pardon me.
But I would rather meet you face to face
And talk of other and indifferent things,
And say no word of all that I would say,
Praise and thanksgiving for your splendid song,
Praise and the pride of the empires of the Blood—
But leave you, silent, as we English do—
And you would know—and you would understand.
