[Attalus]

The Winners

What is the moral? Who rides may read.
When the night is black and the tracks are blind,
A friend in a pinch is a friend, indeed,
But a fool to wait for the laggard behind.
Down to Gehenna, or up to the Throne,
He travels the fastest who travels alone.

White hands cling to the tightened rein,
Slipping the spur from the booted heel.
Tenderest voices cry, "Turn again!"
Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel.
High hopes fade on a warm heartstone.
He travels the fastest who travels alone.

One may fall but he falls by himself,
Falls by himself with himself to blame;
One may attain and to him is the pelf,
Loot of the city in gold or fame.
Plunder of earth shall be all his own,
Who travels the fastest and travels alone.

Wherefore the more be ye holpen and stayed?
Stayed by your friend in his hour of toil?
Sing the herectical song I have made:
His be the labor and yours be the spoil.
Win by his aid and the aid disown.
He travels the fastest who travels alone.
- Rudyard Kipling

[ 04-16-2004, 06:08 PM: Message edited by: Attalus ]