Donald R. McClarey

Sunday is National Dog Day

      DINAH IN HEAVEN by Rudyard Kipling She did not know that she was dead But, when the pang was o’er, Sat down to wait her Master’s tread Upon the Golden Floor, With ears full-cock and anxious eyes,

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Donald R. McClarey

Kipling Wouldn’t Have Been Surprised

  During five literary generations every enlightened person has despised him, and at the end of that time nine-tenths of those enlightened persons are forgotten and Kipling is in some sense still there. George Orwell, on Kipling      

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Donald R. McClarey

The Answer

A Rose, in tatters on the garden path, Cried out to God and murmured ‘gainst His Wrath, Because a sudden wind at twilight’s hush Had snapped her stem alone of all the bush. And God, Who hears both sun-dried dust

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Donald R. McClarey

The Children

“But who shall return us the children?” Rudyard Kipling The thirty-fourth in my on-going series on the poetry of Rudyard Kipling. The other posts in the series may be read here, here , here , here, here , here, here, here,

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Donald R. McClarey

No Truce With Kings

The history of the Catholic Church is dominated by the struggle of the Faith against competing faiths.  Currently the Church is engaged in a struggle with a relatively new religion that has managed to infect the highest reaches of the

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Donald R. McClarey

With Terror and Slaughter Return

But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome. Rudyard Kipling, The Gods of the Copybook Headings    

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Donald R. McClarey

The Black Heart of Man

“When God put man in a garden He girt him with a sword, And sent him forth a free knight That might betray his lord; “He brake Him and betrayed Him, And fast and far he fell, Till you and

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The Choice

  The thirty-third in my on-going series on 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, here , here, here, here

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I Have Made a Dreadful Mistake

The young recruit is silly — ‘e thinks o’ suicide. ‘E’s lost ‘is gutter-devil; ‘e ‘asn’t got ‘is pride; But day by day they kicks ‘im, which ‘elps ‘im on a bit, Till ‘e finds ‘isself one mornin’ with a

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Mother ‘O Mine

If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose love would follow me still,    Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother

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Lenten Thoughts From Kipling

The earth is full of anger, The seas are dark with wrath, The Nations in their harness Go up against our path: Ere yet we loose the legions — Ere yet we draw the blade, Jehovah of the Thunders, Lord

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Eddi’s Service

  The thirty-second in my on-going series on 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, here , here, here, here

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Potty War: Let’s Pretend

  David Solway at PJ Media gets to the heart of not only Potty War but what ails the West in general:  a pernicious, wholly political, game of let’s pretend:   It is as if the Soviet pseudo-scientist Trofim Lysenko

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The Widow at Windsor

The thirty-first 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, here , here, here, here

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Danegeld

  The thirtieth 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, here , here, here,

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Laws for Wolves and Men

The twenty-ninth 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, here , here, here, here

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The Young British Soldier

The twenty-eighth 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, here , here, here, here

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Quotes Suitable for Framing: George Orwell

    A humanitarian is always a hypocrite, and Kipling’s understanding of this is perhaps the central secret of his power to create telling phrases. It would be difficult to hit off the one-eyed pacifism of the English in fewer

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The Press

    The twenty-ninth 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, here , here,

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But Is It Art?

When the flush of a newborn sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold,   Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mold;   And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was

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If: Sound Fatherly Advice

The twenty-eighth 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, here , here, here, here

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Man’s Best Friend

There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of

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The Answer

We are in God’s hand, brother, not in theirs. Henry V to his brother prior to Agincourt, Henry V, Act III, Scene 6 The thirtieth in my ongoing series examining the poetry of Rudyard Kipling. The other posts in the

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Cities and Thrones and Powers

  Like flowery fields the nations stand Pleased with the morning light; The flowers beneath the mower’s hand Lie withering ere ‘tis night. Isaac Watts,  Our God, Our Help in Ages Past  The twenty-ninth in my ongoing series examining the

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The City of Brass

The twenty-eighth 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, here , here, here, here

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His Boy Jack

(I originally wrote this three years ago.  It is one of several posts that I wrote, that I now suspect was God’s way of preparing me for the loss of my son, Larry.  The last paragraph in the post I

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Kipling for Labor Day

        The twenty-seventh 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, here

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Arithmetic

The twenty-seventh 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, here , here, here, here

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Tomlinson Our Contemporary

But because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold, not hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth. Revelations 3:16       The twenty-sixth in my ongoing series examining the poetry of Rudyard Kipling. The other posts

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Boots

The twenty-fifth 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, here , here, here, here

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Hail Liberty! Hail!

The twenty-fourth 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, here , here, here, here

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