Men make them fires on the hearth <br />Each under his roof-tree, <br />And the Four Winds that rule the earth <br />They blow the smoke to me. <br /> <br />Across the high hills and the sea <br />And all the changeful skies, <br />The Four Winds blow the smoke to me <br />Till the tears are in my eyes. <br /> <br />Until the tears are in my eyes. <br />And my heart is wellnigh broke <br />For thinking on old memories <br />That gather in the smoke. <br /> <br />With every shift of every wind <br />The homesick memories come, <br />From every quarter of mankind <br />Where I have made me a home. <br /> <br />Four times a fire against the cold <br />And a roof against the rain -- <br />Sorrow fourfold and joy fourfold <br />The Four Winds bring again! <br /> <br />How can I answer which is best <br />Of all the fires that burn? <br />I have been too often host or guest <br />At every fire in turn. <br /> <br />How can I turn from any fire, <br />On any man's hearthstone? <br />I know the wonder and desire <br />That went to build my own! <br /> <br />How can I doubt man's joy or woe <br />Where'er his house-fires shine. <br />Since all that man must undergo <br />Will visit me at mine? <br /> <br />Oh, you Four Winds that blow so strong <br />And know that his is true, <br />Stoop for a little and carry my song <br />To all the men I knew! <br /> <br />Where there are fires against the cold, <br />Or roofs against the rain -- <br />With love fourfold and joy fourfold, <br />Take them my songs again!<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fires/
