Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!
Get Your Premium Membership

The Mother-Lodge

by
 There was Rundle, Station Master,
 An' Beazeley of the Rail,
An' 'Ackman, Commissariat,
 An' Donkin' o' the Jail;
An' Blake, Conductor-Sargent,
 Our Master twice was 'e,
With 'im that kept the Europe-shop,
 Old Framjee Eduljee.
Outside -- "Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam!" Inside -- "Brother", an' it doesn't do no 'arm.
We met upon the Level an' we parted on the Square, An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother-Lodge out there! We'd Bola Nath, Accountant, An' Saul the Aden Jew, An' Din Mohammed, draughtsman Of the Survey Office too; There was Babu Chuckerbutty, An' Amir Singh the Sikh, An' Castro from the fittin'-sheds, The Roman Catholick! We 'adn't good regalia, An' our Lodge was old an' bare, But we knew the Ancient Landmarks, An' we kep' 'em to a hair; An' lookin' on it backwards It often strikes me thus, There ain't such things as infidels, Excep', per'aps, it's us.
For monthly, after Labour, We'd all sit down and smoke (We dursn't give no banquits, Lest a Brother's caste were broke), An' man on man got talkin' Religion an' the rest, An' every man comparin' Of the God 'e knew the best.
So man on man got talkin', An' not a Brother stirred Till mornin' waked the parrots An' that dam' brain-fever-bird; We'd say 'twas 'ighly curious, An' we'd all ride 'ome to bed, With Mo'ammed, God, an' Shiva Changin' pickets in our 'ead.
Full oft on Guv'ment service This rovin' foot 'ath pressed, An' bore fraternal greetin's To the Lodges east an' west, Accordin' as commanded From Kohat to Singapore, But I wish that I might see them In my Mother-Lodge once more! I wish that I might see them, My Brethren black an' brown, With the trichies smellin' pleasant An' the hog-darn passin' down; [Cigar-lighter.
] An' the old khansamah snorin' [Butler.
] On the bottle-khana floor, [Pantry.
] Like a Master in good standing With my Mother-Lodge once more! Outside -- "Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam!" Inside -- "Brother", an' it doesn't do no 'arm.
We met upon the Level an' we parted on the Square, An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother-Lodge out there!

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - The Mother-LodgeEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top Rudyard Kipling Poems

Analysis and Comments on The Mother-Lodge

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The Mother-Lodge here.