Initial commit

This commit is contained in:
jiapengyu
2026-07-27 13:37:48 +08:00
commit ecba71e2a5
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ref: refs/heads/master
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[core]
repositoryformatversion = 0
filemode = true
bare = false
logallrefupdates = true
ignorecase = true
precomposeunicode = false
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Unnamed repository; edit this file 'description' to name the repository.
Binary file not shown.
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# git ls-files --others --exclude-from=.git/info/exclude
# Lines that start with '#' are comments.
# For a project mostly in C, the following would be a good set of
# exclude patterns (uncomment them if you want to use them):
# *.[oa]
# *~
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0000000000000000000000000000000000000000 31e47d8c1fa36d7f8d537b96158e3f024de0a9f2 Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1351024687 -0700 commit (initial): Initial commit
31e47d8c1fa36d7f8d537b96158e3f024de0a9f2 2bc7f351d20b53f1c72c16c4b036e491c478c49a Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1351024817 -0700 commit: copy and rename with no change
2bc7f351d20b53f1c72c16c4b036e491c478c49a 1c068dee5790ef1580cfc4cd670915b48d790084 Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1361485758 -0800 commit: rewrites, copies with changes, etc.
1c068dee5790ef1580cfc4cd670915b48d790084 19dd32dfb1520a64e5bbaae8dce6ef423dfa2f13 Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1361486360 -0800 commit: more renames and smallish modifications
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000 31e47d8c1fa36d7f8d537b96158e3f024de0a9f2 Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1351024687 -0700 commit (initial): Initial commit
31e47d8c1fa36d7f8d537b96158e3f024de0a9f2 2bc7f351d20b53f1c72c16c4b036e491c478c49a Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1351024817 -0700 commit: copy and rename with no change
2bc7f351d20b53f1c72c16c4b036e491c478c49a 1c068dee5790ef1580cfc4cd670915b48d790084 Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1361485758 -0800 commit: rewrites, copies with changes, etc.
1c068dee5790ef1580cfc4cd670915b48d790084 19dd32dfb1520a64e5bbaae8dce6ef423dfa2f13 Russell Belfer <rb@github.com> 1361486360 -0800 commit: more renames and smallish modifications
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I Keep Six Honest Serving-Men
=============================
She sends'em abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes—
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!
I let them rest from nine till five,
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men.
But different folk have different views;
I know a person small—
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!
-- Rudyard Kipling
I KEEP six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.
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I KEEP six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.
I let them rest from nine till five,
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men.
But different folk have different views;
I know a person small—
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!
She sends'em abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes—
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!
-- Rudyard Kipling
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The Song of Seven Cities
------------------------
I WAS Lord of Cities very sumptuously builded.
Seven roaring Cities paid me tribute from afar.
Ivory their outposts were--the guardrooms of them gilded,
And garrisoned with Amazons invincible in war.
All the world went softly when it walked before my Cities--
Neither King nor Army vexed my peoples at their toil,
Never horse nor chariot irked or overbore my Cities,
Never Mob nor Ruler questioned whence they drew their spoil.
Banded, mailed and arrogant from sunrise unto sunset;
Singing while they sacked it, they possessed the land at large.
Yet when men would rob them, they resisted, they made onset
And pierced the smoke of battle with a thousand-sabred charge.
So they warred and trafficked only yesterday, my Cities.
To-day there is no mark or mound of where my Cities stood.
For the River rose at midnight and it washed away my Cities.
They are evened with Atlantis and the towns before the Flood.
Rain on rain-gorged channels raised the water-levels round them,
Freshet backed on freshet swelled and swept their world from sight,
Till the emboldened floods linked arms and, flashing forward, drowned them--
Drowned my Seven Cities and their peoples in one night!
Low among the alders lie their derelict foundations,
The beams wherein they trusted and the plinths whereon they built--
My rulers and their treasure and their unborn populations,
Dead, destroyed, aborted, and defiled with mud and silt!
The Daughters of the Palace whom they cherished in my Cities,
My silver-tongued Princesses, and the promise of their May--
Their bridegrooms of the June-tide--all have perished in my Cities,
With the harsh envenomed virgins that can neither love nor play.
I was Lord of Cities--I will build anew my Cities,
Seven, set on rocks, above the wrath of any flood.
Nor will I rest from search till I have filled anew my Cities
With peoples undefeated of the dark, enduring blood.
To the sound of trumpets shall their seed restore my Cities
Wealthy and well-weaponed, that once more may I behold
All the world go softly when it walks before my Cities,
And the horses and the chariots fleeing from them as of old!
-- Rudyard Kipling
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Untimely
========
Nothing in life has been made by man for man's using
But it was shown long since to man in ages
Lost as the name of the maker of it,
Who received oppression and shame for his wages--
Hate, avoidance, and scorn in his daily dealings--
Until he perished, wholly confounded
More to be pitied than he are the wise
Souls which foresaw the evil of loosing
Knowledge or Art before time, and aborted
Noble devices and deep-wrought healings,
Lest offense should arise.
Heaven delivers on earth the Hour that cannot be
thwarted,
Neither advanced, at the price of a world nor a soul,
and its Prophet
Comes through the blood of the vanguards who
dreamed--too soon--it had sounded.
-- Rudyard Kipling