Chapter 11

by Rudyard Kipling

　　Give the man who is not made

　　To his trade

　　Swords to fling and catch again,

　　Coins to ring and snatch again,

　　Men to harm and cure again,

　　Snakes to charm and lure again—

　　He’ll be hurt by his own blade,

　　By his serpents disobeyed,

　　By his clumsiness bewrayed

　　By the people mocked to scorn—

　　So ’Tis not with juggler born.

　　Pinch of dust or withered flower,

　　Chance-flung fruit or borrowed staff,

　　Serve his need and shore his power,

　　Bind the spell, or loose the laugh!

　　But a man who, etc.., Op. 15