With His own Hands He served Them, and presently He said: How Iron - Cold Iron - can be master of men all!” “Here is Bread and here is Wine - sit and sup with me.Įat and drink in Mary’s Name, the whiles I do recall Yet his King made answer (few such Kings there be!) “As my loss is grievous, so my hope is small,įor Iron - Cold Iron - must be master of men all!” Halters for the silly neck that cannot keep a crown.” “Tears are for the craven, prayers are for the clown. “Nay!” said the Baron, “mock not at my fall,įor Iron - Cold Iron - is master of men all.” “What if I release thee now and give thee back thy sword?” Yet his King spake kindly (ah, how kind a Lord!) He was taken prisoner, he was cast in thrall,Īnd Iron - Cold Iron - was master of it all! When the cruel cannon-balls laid ’em all along Woe for the Baron and his knights so strong, “But Iron - Cold Iron - shall be master of you all!” “Nay!” said the cannoneer on the castle wall, So he made rebellion ‘gainst the King his liege,Ĭamped before his citadel and summoned it to siege. “But Iron - Cold Iron - is master of them all.” “Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall, Gold is for the mistress - silver for the maid -Ĭopper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.” One of his lesser known poems, Cold Iron, written in 1910, I have always found personally very moving. I have noted several times in this series that Kipling was not conventionally religious, yet many of his poems dealt with religious themes. The thirteenth in my ongoing series examining the poetry of Rudyard Kipling. The other posts in the series may be read here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.
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