“The Feet of the Young Men”

by Rudyard Kipling

Now the Four-Way Lodge is opened,

Now the hunting winds are loose

Now the smokes of spring go up to

Clear the brain;

Now the young men’s hearts are troubled

For the whisper of the trues,

Now the Red Gods make their medicine again

Who hath smelt wood-smoke at twilight?

Who hath heard the birch-log burning?

Who is quick to read the noises of the night?

Let him follow with the others,

For the young men’s feet are turning

To the camps of proved desire

And known delight!