The Poetry Corner

The Song Of Diego Valdez

By Rudyard Kipling

The God of Fair Beginnings Hath prospered here my hand, The cargoes of my lading, And the keels of my command. For out of many ventures That sailed with hope as high, My own have made the better trade, And Admiral am I. To me my King's much honour, To me my people's love, To me the pride of Princes And power all pride above; To me the shouting cities, To me the mob's refrain:, "Who knows not noble Valdez "Hath never heard of Spain." But I remember comrades, Old playmates on new seas, When as we traded orpiment Among the savages, A thousand leagues to south'ard And thirty years removed, They knew nor noble Valdez, But me they knew and loved. Then they that found good liquor, They drank it not alone, And they that found fair plunder, They told us every one, About our chosen islands Or secret shoals between, When, weary from far voyage, We gathered to careen. Were burned our breaming-fagots All pale along the shore: There rose our worn pavilions, A sail above an oar: As flashed each yeaming anchor Through mellow seas afire, So swift our careless captains Rowed each to his desire. Where lay our loosened harness? Where turned our naked feet? Whose tavern 'mid the palm-trees? What quenchings of what heat? Oh, fountain in the desert! Oh, cistern in the waste! Oh, bread we ate in secret! Oh, cup we spilled in haste! The youth new-taught of longing, The widow curbed and wan, The goodwife proud at season, And the maid aware of man, All souls unslaked, consuming, Defrauded in delays, Desire not more their quittance Than I those forfeit days! I dreamed to wait my pleasure Unchanged my spring would bide: Wherefore, to wait my pleasure, I put my spring aside Till, first in face of Fortune, And last in mazed disdain, I made Diego Valdez High Admiral of Spain. Then walked no wind 'neath Heaven Nor surge that did not aid, I dared extreme occasion, Nor ever one betrayed. They wrought a deeper treason, (Led seas that served my needs!) They sold Diego Valdez To bondage of great deeds. The tempest flung me seaward, And pinned and bade me hold The course I might not alter, And men esteemed me bold! The calms embayed my quarry, The fog-wreath sealed his eyes; The dawn-wind brought my topsails, And men esteemed me wise! Yet, 'spite my tyrant triumphs, Bewildered, dispossessed, My dream held I before me My vision of my rest; But, crowned by Fleet and People, And bound by King and Pope, Stands here Diego Valdez To rob me of my hope. No prayer of mine shall move him. No word of his set free The Lord of Sixty Pennants And the Steward of the Sea. His will can loose ten thousand To seek their loves again, But not Diego Valdez, High Admiral of Spain. There walks no wind 'neath Heaven Nor wave that shall restore The old careening riot And the clamorous, crowded shore, The fountain in the desert, The cistern in the waste, The bread we ate in secret, The cup we spilled in haste. Now call I to my Captains, For council fly the sign, Now leap their zealous galleys, Twelve-oared, across the brine. To me the straiter prison, To me the heavier chain, To me Diego Valdez, High Admiral of Spain!