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Rudyard Kipling
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1865 - 1936
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He was initiated in
"Hope and Perservance" Lodge No.782 
(Lahore, Punjab, Pakistan), 
became author of "The Jungle Book",
published the famous poem
"My Mother Lodge"
in 1896
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Translation: Unknown
Lay-out: Mike Harscheidt
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Kipling
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Jungle
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Old City Street
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Lahore Railway Station
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Chauburji Gateway
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Old Mosque
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Lahore   -  Sun Set
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My Mother Lodge
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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!
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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.
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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.

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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.
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Full oft on Guv'ment service
This rovin' foot 'ath pressed,

An' bore fraternal greetin's
To the Lodges east an' west,

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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,
 

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An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother-Lodge out there!
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