For I have dreamed of a shaggy hide whereon I went to rest? 
And was I born of womankind and laid on a father’s arm? 
For I have dreamed of clashing teeth that guarded me from harm. 
And was I born an Only Son and did I play alone? 
For I have dreamed of comrades twain that bit me to the bone. 
And did I break the barley-cake and steep it in the tyre? 
For I have dreamed of a youngling kid new-riven from the byre. 
For I have dreamed of a midnight sky and a midnight call to blood,
And red-mouthed shadows racing by, that thrust me from my food. 
’Tis an hour yet and an hour yet to the rising of the moon,
But I can see the black roof-tree as plain as it were noon. 
’Tis a league and a league to the Lena Falls where the trooping blackbuck go;
But I can hear the little fawn that bleats behind the doe. 
’Tis a league and a league to the Lena Falls where the crop and the upland meet,
But I can smell the wet dawn-wind that wakes the sprouting wheat. 
Unbar the door, I may not bide, but I must out and see
If those are wolves that wait outside or my own kin to me!’

* * * * *

She loosed the bar, she slid the bolt, she opened the door anon,
And a grey bitch-wolf came out of the dark and fawned on the Only Son!

MOWGLI’S SONG AGAINST PEOPLE

I will let loose against you the fleet-footed vines—­
I will call in the Jungle to stamp out your lines! 
    The roofs shall fade before it,
      The house-beams shall fall,
    And the Karela, the bitter Karela,
      Shall cover it all!

In the gates of these your councils my people shall sing,
In the doors of these your garners the Bat-folk shall cling;
    And the snake shall be your watchman,
      By a hearthstone unswept;
    For the Karela, the bitter Karela,
      Shall fruit where ye slept!

Ye shall not see my strikers; ye shall hear them and guess;
By night, before the moon-rise, I will send for my cess,
    And the wolf shall be your herdsman
      By a landmark removed,
    For the Karela, the bitter Karela,
      Shall seed where ye loved!

I will reap your fields before you at the hands of a host;
Ye shall glean behind my reapers for the bread that is lost;
    And the deer shall be your oxen
      On a headland untilled,
    For the Karela, the bitter Karela,
      Shall leaf where ye build!

I have untied against you the club-footed vines—­
I have sent in the Jungle to swamp out your lines! 
    The trees—­the trees are on you! 
      The house-beams shall fall,
    And the Karela, the bitter Karela,
      Shall cover you all!

ROMULUS AND REMUS