Explore "On Greenhow Hill" by Rudyard Kipling on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
To Love's low voice she lent a careless ear; / Her hand within his rosy fingers lay, / A chilling weight. She would not turn or hear; / But with averted face went on her way. / But when pale Death, all featureless and grim, / Lifted his bony hand, and beckoning / Held out his cypress-wreath, she followed him, / And Love was left forlorn and wondering, / That she who for his bidding would not stay, / At Death's first whisper rose and went away. / RIVALS.
'Ohe, Ahmed Din! Shafiz Ullah ahoo! Bahadur Khan, where are you? Come out of the tents, as I have done, and fight against the English. Don't kill your own kin! Come out to me!'