Loose all sail and brace your yards aback and full —

Ready jib to pay her oft and heave short all !

Well, ah fare you well ; we can stay no more

with you, my love —
Down, set down your liquor and your girl from
off your knee ;
For the wind has come to say :
" You must take me while you may
If you'd go to Mother Carey !
(Walk her down to Mother Carey !)
Oh, we're bound to Mother Carey where she feeds her
chicks at sea ! "

There yet remains something to be said on
the subject of Mr. Kipling's metres. I have
already mentioned Herr Loewe's Beitrage zur

80



POETRY

Metrik Rudyard Kipling's, It is a book that
shoTild fill us with national shame — blent with
a certain sneaking feeling of national thankful-
ness — ^that such things are not done amongst
us. Its thoroughness is appalling. Herr Loewe
notes where such different quantities as 'chance'
and ' circumstance,' ' land ' and ' command ' are
made to rime. He calls our attention to ' frock-
edat ' and 'beam-sea,' so accented. He is con-
cerned over the riming of long and short ' i,' as
' wise ' and ' homilies.' Along this nice path I
shall not follow him ; I recognize too well that
I write for readers infinitely less scientific than
his. But I am indebted to him for many sug-
gestions, the product, of his care and industry
in the study of Mr. Kipling's metres.
