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waits The drumming thunders that announce brute                           battle at her gates。 

     Southward   a  hundred   windy  leagues�察  �through                    storms   that   blind 

and bar�察�Our cheated cruisers search the waves�察�our cap´                             tains seek 

the   war�察  �But   here   the   port   of   peril   is�察  �the   foeman's   dread´      noughts 

ride Sullen and black against the moon�察�upon a sullen                          tide。 And only 

we     to  launch     ourselves     against    their          stark    advance      To    guide 

uncertain lightnings through these treach´                    erous seas of chance� �

     。        。        。        。        。        。 

     And now a wheeling searchlight paints a signal on                         the night�察�And 

now the bellowing guns are loud with the                      wild lust of fight。 

     。        。        。        。        。        。 

     And   now�察  �her   flanks   of   steel   apulse   with   all   the        power   of   hell�察�

Forth from the darkness leaps in pride a hateful                      miracle�察�The flagship 

of their Admiraland now God help                      and save� �We challenge Death 

at Death's own game�察�we                  sink beneath the wave� �

     。        。        。        。        。        。 

     Ah�察  �steady   nowand   one   good   blowone   straight                 stab   through 

the     gloom       Ah�察    �good��the       thrust     went     home��she        founders 

flounders   to   her   doom�   �Full   speed   ahead��those   damned   quick´firing 

guns          but let them bark What's thatthe dynamos��they've got us�察�

men�           �Christ� �in the dark� �

        NICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRO 

     ��1912�� 

     HE speaks   as   straight   as his   rifles shot�察         �As   straight   as a  thrusting 

blade�察  �Waiting   the   deed   that   shall   trouble   the   truce       His   savage   guns 

have made。 

     ;You   have   dared   the   wrath   of   a   dozen   states�察─      �Was   the   challenge 

that   he   heard�察   �We   can   die   but   once� ─  �said   the   grim   old   King      As   he 

gripped his mountain sword。 

     ;For   I   paid   in   blood   for   the   town   I   took�察 �The   blood   of   my  brave 

men   slain�察�And   if   you   covet   the   town   I   took       You   must   buy   it   with 

blood again� ─�

     Stern     old  King     of  the   stark�察 �black    hills�察    �Where      the   lean�察  �fierce 



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eagles breed�察�Your speech   rings   true as   your   good sword   rings              And 

you are a king indeed� �



                                       DICKENS 



        ;The only book that the party had was a volume of Dickens。 During 

the six months that they lay in the cave which they had hacked in the ice�察�

waiting   for   spring   to   come�察  �they   read   this  volume   through      again   and 

again。;From a newspaper report of an antarctic expedition。 

     HUDDLED           within    their  savage     lair     They      hearkened      to  the 

prowling wind�察�They heard the loud wings of despair 。 。 。                  And madness 

beat against the mind。 。 。 。 A sunless world stretched stark outside As if it 

had cursed God and died�察�Dumb plains lay prone beneath the weight Of 

cold unutterably great�察        �Iron ice bound all the bitter seas�察�The brutal hills 

were bleak as hate。 。 。 。       Here none but Death might walk at ease� �

     Then Dickens spoke�察�and�察�lo� �the vast               Unpeopled void stirred into 

life�察�

     The   dead   world   quickened�察  �the   mad   blast       Hushed   for   an   hour   its 

idiot strife With nothingness。 。 。 。 

                                        And from the gloom�察           �Parting the flaps 

of   frozen   skin�察   �Old   friends   and   dear   came   trooping   in�察�And   light   and 

laughter     filled   the   room。    。  。  。  Voices    and    faces�察  �shapes    beloved�察�

Babbling      lips   and  kindly   eyes�察  �Not   ghosts�察  �but   friends   that   lived  and 

moved 。 。 。        They brought the sun from other skies�察�They wrought the 

magic that   dispels        The bitterer  part of   loneliness   。  。  。 And   when they 

vanished each man dreamed              His dream there in the wilderness。 。 。 。 One 

heard the chime of Christmas bells�察�And�察�staring down a country lane�察�Saw 

bright against the window´pane The firelight beckon warm  and red。 。 。  。 

And one turned from the waterside Where Thames rolls down his slothful 

tide To breast the human sea that beats Through roaring London's battered 

streets 

     And revel in the moods of men。 。 。 。             And one saw all the April hills 

Made glad with golden daffodils�察�And found and kissed his love again。 。 。 。 

     。       。        。       。        。       。 

     By all the troubled hearts he cheers           In homely ways or by lost trails�察�



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By   all   light   shed   through   all   dark   years When   hope   grows   sick   and 

courage quails�察�We hail him first among his peers�察            �Whether we sorrow�察�

sing�察 �or   feast�察  �He�察 �too�察  �hath   known   and   understood Master   of   many 

moods�察�high priest Of mirth and lord of cleansing tears� �



                                A POLITICIAN 



    LEADER   no   more�察  �be   judged   of   us�     �Hailed   Chief�察  �and   loved�察  �of 

yore   Youth�察  �and   the   faith   of   youth�察  �cry   out�此�Leader   and   Chief   no 

more� �

    We dreamed a Prophet�察�flushed with faith�察            �Content to toil in pain If 

that his sacrifice might be�察      �Somehow�察�his people's gain。 

    We saw a vision�察�and our blood           Beat red and hot and strong�此 �Lead 

us ��we cried�� to war against        Some foul�察�embattled wrong� ─�

    We     dreamed    a  Warrior   whose    sword      Was    edged   for  sham    and 

shame�察�We dreamed a Statesman far above              The vulgar lust for fame。 

    We were   not cynics�察 �and we   dreamed           A Man   who made   no   truce 

With lies nor ancient privilege        Nor old�察�entrenched abuse。 

    We dreamed 。 。 。 we dreamed 。 。 。           Youth dreamed              a dream� �

And even you forgot Yourself�察�one moment�察�and dreamed�察�too                  Struck�察�

while your mood was hot� �

     Struck three or four good blows 。 。 。 and then          Turned back to easier 

things�此�The cheap applause�察�the blatant mob�察          �The praise of underlings� �

    Praise 。 。 。 praise 。 。 。 was ever man so filled�察     �So avid still�察�of praise�拭�

So hungry for the crowd's acclaim�察         �The sycophantic phrase�拭�

    O you whom Greatness beckoned to 。 。 。              O swollen Littleness Who 

turned from Immortality         To fawn upon Success� �

    O blind with love of self�察�who led          Youth's vision to defeat�察�Bawling 

and brawling for rewards�察        �Loud�察�in the common street� �

    O  you   who were  so   quick to   judge      Leader�察 �and loved�察 �of   yore 

Hear now the judgment of our youth�此           �Leader and Chief no more� �



                                THE BAYONET 



    ��1914�� 



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     THE   great   guns   slay   from   a   league   away�察  �the   death´          bolts   fly 

unseen�察�And bellowing hill replies to hill�察�machine to brute                      machine�察�

But still in the end when the long lines bend and                     the battle hangs in 

doubt They  take   to   the steel   in   the   same   old   way  that         their   fathers 

fought   it   out   It   is   man   to   man   and   breast   to   breast   and   eye     to 

bloodshot   eye And   the   reach   and   twist   of   the   thrusting   wrist�察  �as        it 

was in the days gone by� �

     Along   the   shaken   hills   the   guns   their   drumming           thunder   roll 

But   the   keen   blades   thrill   with   the   lust   to   kill   that   leaps   from   the 

slayer's soul� �

     For hand and heart and living steel�察�one pulse of                   hate they feel。 Is 

your clan afraid of the naked blade�拭             �Does it          flinch from the bitter 

steel�拭�Perish your dreams of conquest then�察�your swollen                         hopes and 

bold�察�For empire dwells with the stabbing blade�察�as it                     did in the days 

of old� �



                      THE BUTCHERS AT PRAYER 



     ��1914�� 

     EACH nation as it draws the sword                  And flings its standard to the 

air Petitions piously the Lord           Vexing the void abyss with prayer。 

     O   irony   too   deep   for   mirth�    �O   posturing   apes   that   rant�察  �and   dare 

This antic attitude�       �O Earth�察      �With your wild jest of wicked prayer� �

     I   dare   not   laugh   。   。   。   a   rising   swell Of   laughter   breaks   in   shrieks 

somewhere No doubt they relish it in Hell�察                 �This cosmic jest of Earth 

at prayer� �



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                               SHADOWS 



                                   HAUNTED 



    ��THE GHOST SPEAKS�� 

    A GHOST is the freak of a sick man's brain�拭            �Then why do ye start 

and shiver so�拭�That's the sob and drip of a leaky drain�拭            �But it sounds 

like another noise we know�          �The heavy drops drummed red and slow�察�

The   drops   ran   down   as   slow   as   fate Do   ye   hear   them   still��it   was 

long ago� �But here in the shadows I wait�察�I wait� �

    Spirits there be that pass i

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