Explore "The Dykes" by Rudyard Kipling on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar -- / All that our fathers taught us of old pleases us now no more; / All that our own hearts bid us believe we doubt where we do not deny -- / There is no proof in the bread we eat or rest in the toil we ply.
Look you, our foreshore stretches far through sea-gate, dyke, and groin -- / Made land all, that our fathers made, where the flats and the fairway join. / They forced the sea a sea-league back. They died, and their work stood fast. / We were born to peace in the lee of the dykes, but the time of our peace is past.