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Gunga Din and Other Favorite Poems
In such poems as "Gunga Din," "Mandalay," "Tommy," "Danny Deever," "If —," "The White Man's Burden," and "The Female of the Species," Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936) evoked stirring images and created archetypes of British character at the height of the Empire. Filled with character study, dramatic incident, and rousing language, the poems delineate the time, place, and ethos of British ascendancy as surely as a novel or history of the period, yet they possess a timelessness and universality that lifts them above the purely temporal.
Readers will find in this choice selection of 44 poems, reprinted from authoritative editions, not only a glimpse of the Empire, but the works of a vigorous and original poet who brought the language apt and colorful turns of phrase we still cherish.
Readers will find in this choice selection of 44 poems, reprinted from authoritative editions, not only a glimpse of the Empire, but the works of a vigorous and original poet who brought the language apt and colorful turns of phrase we still cherish.
74 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1892
39 people are currently reading
748 people want to read
About the author
Rudyard Kipling
7,195 books3,726 followersJoseph Rudyard Kipling was a journalist, short-story writer, poet, and novelist.
Kipling's works of fiction include The Jungle Book (1894), Kim (1901), and many short stories, including The Man Who Would Be King (1888). His poems include Mandalay (1890), Gunga Din (1890), The Gods of the Copybook Headings (1919), The White Man's Burden (1899), and If— (1910). He is regarded as a major innovator in the art of the short story; his children's books are classics of children's literature; and one critic described his work as exhibiting "a versatile and luminous narrative gift".
Kipling was one of the most popular writers in the United Kingdom, in both prose and verse, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Henry James said: "Kipling strikes me personally as the most complete man of genius (as distinct from fine intelligence) that I have ever known." In 1907, at the age of 41, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, making him the first English-language writer to receive the prize, and its youngest recipient to date. He was also sounded out for the British Poet Laureateship and on several occasions for a knighthood, both of which he declined.
Awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1907 "in consideration of the power of observation, originality of imagination, virility of ideas and remarkable talent for narration which characterize the creations of this world-famous author."
Kipling kept writing until the early 1930s, but at a slower pace and with much less success than before. On the night of 12 January 1936, Kipling suffered a haemorrhage in his small intestine. He underwent surgery, but died less than a week later on 18 January 1936 at the age of 70 of a perforated duodenal ulcer. Kipling's death had in fact previously been incorrectly announced in a magazine, to which he wrote, "I've just read that I am dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers."
Kipling's works of fiction include The Jungle Book (1894), Kim (1901), and many short stories, including The Man Who Would Be King (1888). His poems include Mandalay (1890), Gunga Din (1890), The Gods of the Copybook Headings (1919), The White Man's Burden (1899), and If— (1910). He is regarded as a major innovator in the art of the short story; his children's books are classics of children's literature; and one critic described his work as exhibiting "a versatile and luminous narrative gift".
Kipling was one of the most popular writers in the United Kingdom, in both prose and verse, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Henry James said: "Kipling strikes me personally as the most complete man of genius (as distinct from fine intelligence) that I have ever known." In 1907, at the age of 41, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, making him the first English-language writer to receive the prize, and its youngest recipient to date. He was also sounded out for the British Poet Laureateship and on several occasions for a knighthood, both of which he declined.
Awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1907 "in consideration of the power of observation, originality of imagination, virility of ideas and remarkable talent for narration which characterize the creations of this world-famous author."
Kipling kept writing until the early 1930s, but at a slower pace and with much less success than before. On the night of 12 January 1936, Kipling suffered a haemorrhage in his small intestine. He underwent surgery, but died less than a week later on 18 January 1936 at the age of 70 of a perforated duodenal ulcer. Kipling's death had in fact previously been incorrectly announced in a magazine, to which he wrote, "I've just read that I am dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers."
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
January 16, 2020
Very rarely do I score poetry this low, but the vast majority of these poems just didn't do anything for me at all. I am a lover of short poems, and some Kipling's here seemed like they wanted to go on forever. I read just over half of them before I started to lose interest, and then just picked out a few from the second half of the book. Not even the title poem Gunga Din was that special. The poems on India and the British Empire were difficult to get into as my knowledge of both is practically zero.
It's a good job this was a cheap buy, I will now pass it on to a charity book shop in the hope it will find a reader who can appreciate them, as unfortunately I didn't.
It's a good job this was a cheap buy, I will now pass it on to a charity book shop in the hope it will find a reader who can appreciate them, as unfortunately I didn't.
December 4, 2025
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, ‘It’s pretty, but is it Art?’
A week or so ago I watched the movie 28 Years Later, and in that movie they play Kipling's excellent poem "Boots." Not 10 minutes after I finished the movie I saw a review here on Goodreads that was quoting "Boots." So of course I was left with no choice and I had to read some Kipling poetry.
This is an interesting collection, less focused on a single subject than some other collections I've seen (although there's still more than plenty about soldiering or British imperialism). Some are mediocre, some are enjoyable, and a few are quite good with a couple reaching the same quality as "Boots." There are some famous poems, one or two that might be called problematic by the kind of person prone to using that word, and even a poem Gene Wolfe used lines from in one of his embedded stories in BotNS. All in all a satisfying read.
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, ‘It’s pretty, but is it Art?’
A week or so ago I watched the movie 28 Years Later, and in that movie they play Kipling's excellent poem "Boots." Not 10 minutes after I finished the movie I saw a review here on Goodreads that was quoting "Boots." So of course I was left with no choice and I had to read some Kipling poetry.
This is an interesting collection, less focused on a single subject than some other collections I've seen (although there's still more than plenty about soldiering or British imperialism). Some are mediocre, some are enjoyable, and a few are quite good with a couple reaching the same quality as "Boots." There are some famous poems, one or two that might be called problematic by the kind of person prone to using that word, and even a poem Gene Wolfe used lines from in one of his embedded stories in BotNS. All in all a satisfying read.
January 8, 2008
My girlfriend was suffering a migraine the other night, and I pulled this out to read to her; Kipling is unmatched at his command of the rhythms, sounds, and patterns of the English language. You absolutely have to read Kipling in the context of his times, but if you can manage to do that, an absolutely amazing progressive and universal light shines through his themes and his words ("nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, and every single one of them is right") . You might also need Wikipedia at hand -- I am nowhere near as up on the British Colonial period of India's history as I'd like to be -- but again, worth it.
This concordance doesn't contain all of my favorites, but Project Gutenberg has all of Kipling's work; if I had to pick a favorite, I'd have to pick "Recessional", which is just as applicable today as it was when Kipling wrote it. ("Far-called, our navies melt away / On dune and headland sinks the fire / Lo, all our pomp of yesterday / Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! / Judge of the Nations, spare us yet / Lest we forget - lest we forget!")
This concordance doesn't contain all of my favorites, but Project Gutenberg has all of Kipling's work; if I had to pick a favorite, I'd have to pick "Recessional", which is just as applicable today as it was when Kipling wrote it. ("Far-called, our navies melt away / On dune and headland sinks the fire / Lo, all our pomp of yesterday / Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! / Judge of the Nations, spare us yet / Lest we forget - lest we forget!")
September 18, 2025
the only poem worth reading
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 joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, “It’s pretty, but is it Art?”
Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion his work anew—
The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review;
And he left his lore to the use of his sons—and that was a glorious gain
When the Devil chuckled: “Is it Art?” in the ear of the branded Cain.
They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench the stars apart,
Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks: “It’s striking, but is it Art?”
The stone was dropped by the quarry-side, and the idle derrick swung,
While each man talked of the aims of art, and each in an alien tongue.
They fought and they talked in the north and the south, they talked and they fought in the west,
Till the waters rose on the jabbering land, and the poor Red Clay had rest—
Had rest till the dank blank-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start,
And the Devil bubbled below the keel: “It’s human, but is it Art?”
The tale is old as the Eden Tree—as new as the new-cut tooth—
For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is master of Art and Truth;
And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the beat of his dying heart,
The Devil drum on the darkened pane: “You did it, but was it Art?”
We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice-peg,
We have learned to bottle our parents twain in the yolk of an addled egg,
We know that the tail must wag the dog, as the horse is drawn by the cart;
But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: “It’s clever, but is it Art?”
When the flicker of London’s sun falls faint on the club-room’s green and gold,
The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mold—
They scratch with their pens in the mold of their graves, and the ink and the anguish start
When the Devil mutters behind the leaves: “It’s pretty, but is it art?”
Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the four great rivers flow,
And the wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she left it long ago,
And if we could come when the sentry slept, and softly scurry through,
By the favor of God we might know as much—as our father Adam knew.
you’re welcome
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 joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, “It’s pretty, but is it Art?”
Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion his work anew—
The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review;
And he left his lore to the use of his sons—and that was a glorious gain
When the Devil chuckled: “Is it Art?” in the ear of the branded Cain.
They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench the stars apart,
Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks: “It’s striking, but is it Art?”
The stone was dropped by the quarry-side, and the idle derrick swung,
While each man talked of the aims of art, and each in an alien tongue.
They fought and they talked in the north and the south, they talked and they fought in the west,
Till the waters rose on the jabbering land, and the poor Red Clay had rest—
Had rest till the dank blank-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start,
And the Devil bubbled below the keel: “It’s human, but is it Art?”
The tale is old as the Eden Tree—as new as the new-cut tooth—
For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is master of Art and Truth;
And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the beat of his dying heart,
The Devil drum on the darkened pane: “You did it, but was it Art?”
We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice-peg,
We have learned to bottle our parents twain in the yolk of an addled egg,
We know that the tail must wag the dog, as the horse is drawn by the cart;
But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: “It’s clever, but is it Art?”
When the flicker of London’s sun falls faint on the club-room’s green and gold,
The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mold—
They scratch with their pens in the mold of their graves, and the ink and the anguish start
When the Devil mutters behind the leaves: “It’s pretty, but is it art?”
Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the four great rivers flow,
And the wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she left it long ago,
And if we could come when the sentry slept, and softly scurry through,
By the favor of God we might know as much—as our father Adam knew.
you’re welcome
June 9, 2013
Gunga din was what my Aussie grandfather used to call me sometimes when I was covered in Mud wonderful poems
January 2, 2019
I am not generally a poetry reader. There are very few instances of poetry that I find to be moving enough to care about. Most poetry comes across as simply being cute. Though, it's interesting to me to introspect on the fact that I remember and care about many song lyrics, which I believe is just poetry set to music. Maybe I just can't hear the music of the poetry unless someone else provides the tune . . .
Most of the poems in this collection kept my attention rather well. "Tomlinson" stands out as the one I will likely remember longest. A few of the poems left me feeling like I had missed the gist because there were so many references to people and places in Kipling's experience that I have no knowledge of. But for me the best aspect of the collection is that way it evokes a feeling of an era, the time when the sun never set on the British Empire.
Most of the poems in this collection kept my attention rather well. "Tomlinson" stands out as the one I will likely remember longest. A few of the poems left me feeling like I had missed the gist because there were so many references to people and places in Kipling's experience that I have no knowledge of. But for me the best aspect of the collection is that way it evokes a feeling of an era, the time when the sun never set on the British Empire.
September 12, 2025
I pulled this one out to be our fall Morning Time poetry book, after the disappointment of Pterodactyls and Pizza... but it ended up being a bad choice. It is not the most child-friendly collection, both in content (the poem "The Ladies" begins, "I've taken my fun where I've found it") and in understandability (there are heavy references to to British army culture of the time, as well as significant use of dialect that are challenging to work through).
I love some of his poems in this collection, but as a whole, it wasn't a good school choice for us.
I love some of his poems in this collection, but as a whole, it wasn't a good school choice for us.
Read
February 7, 2020This is an unadjusted copy as far as political correctness is concerned.
August 23, 2020
I loved them
February 27, 2024
Kipling’s poetry is magnificent. Second to none.
September 28, 2025
It was going soooo well then it went so very wrong …
August 20, 2024
I have never read any of Rudyard Kipling’s poems before and was surprised to see how different they are to what I think of as early 20th century poetry. Some of these poems seem so similar to the style of poetry written by John Cooper Clark from Salford. A lot of these poems seem to have such a punk atmosphere, 100 years before the genre was created
August 8, 2011
Imperialistic, chauvinistic, sexist, and at times just plain racist, Kipling wrote poems from the self-aware Tommy's point of view. Beautifully composed, I really enjoyed them. If you can get past what was simply the attitude of the English at the time, you can find some heartwarming and endearing sentiments(and a few laughs).
The Absent-Minded Beggar
When you've shouted "Rule Britannia," when you've sung "God save the Queen"--
When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth--
Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine
For a gentleman in Khaki ordered South?
He's an absent-minded beggar, and his weaknesses are great--
But we and Paul must take him as we find him--
He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate--
And he's left a lot of little things behind him!
Duke's son--cook's son--son of a hundred kings--
(Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!)
Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after their things?)
Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay--pay--pay!
There are girls he married secret, asking no permission to,
For he knew he wouldn't get it if he did.
There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due,
And it's more than rather likely there's a kid.
There are girls he walked with casual, they'll be sorry now he's gone,
For an absent-minded beggar they will find him,
But it ain't the time for sermons with the winter coming on--
We must help the girl that Tommy's left behind him!
There's more poem, but that's enough of a taste to get a feel for Kipling's style and sympathy for the Redcoats. Worth the read.
The Absent-Minded Beggar
When you've shouted "Rule Britannia," when you've sung "God save the Queen"--
When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth--
Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine
For a gentleman in Khaki ordered South?
He's an absent-minded beggar, and his weaknesses are great--
But we and Paul must take him as we find him--
He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate--
And he's left a lot of little things behind him!
Duke's son--cook's son--son of a hundred kings--
(Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!)
Each of 'em doing his country's work (and who's to look after their things?)
Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay--pay--pay!
There are girls he married secret, asking no permission to,
For he knew he wouldn't get it if he did.
There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due,
And it's more than rather likely there's a kid.
There are girls he walked with casual, they'll be sorry now he's gone,
For an absent-minded beggar they will find him,
But it ain't the time for sermons with the winter coming on--
We must help the girl that Tommy's left behind him!
There's more poem, but that's enough of a taste to get a feel for Kipling's style and sympathy for the Redcoats. Worth the read.
August 30, 2007
The first time I read The White Man's Burden I thought it was taking the piss. I still like to maintain this belief despite knowing it wasn't the intention. It's pretty funny.
March 6, 2014
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
April 19, 2009
I am not the greatest fan of poetry, but I couldn't stop reading this one. A what a fan of gunga din I am!
June 19, 2009
I like Kipling, but I love his poetry.
July 17, 2009
George Orwell has written about Rudyard Kipling far better than I could hope to. Go read his Essays.
September 13, 2009
I love Kipling.
Want to read
November 24, 2010Added mainly because of the Dylan song.
Read
December 3, 2011tried at least.
May 21, 2012
I enjoyed his poems better than his writings in the Jungle Books.
January 3, 2013
These used to be required reading when I went to school, but I doubt many people would appreciate them nowadays....pity...
April 6, 2016
Maybe 3.5. An interesting if problematic read, and nice to get back into some Victorian poetry.
Want to read
April 14, 2008I saw the movie Gunga Din and it was pretty good.
June 1, 2013
I liked it.
Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews