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diff --git a/38071-h/38071-h.htm b/38071-h/38071-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1bade4 --- /dev/null +++ b/38071-h/38071-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2375 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8"/> +<title>The Guards Came Through and Other Poems, by Arthur Conan Doyle—A Project Gutenberg eBook</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +p +{ + text-align: justify; +} + +h1, +h2, +h3 +{ + text-align: center; + clear: both; + font-weight: normal; +} + +h1 +{ + font-size: x-large; + margin: 6em auto 3em auto; + line-height: 1.6; +} + +h2 +{ + font-size: large; + margin: 6em auto 1em auto; + line-height: 1.5; +} + +h3 +{ + margin: 2em auto 1em auto; + line-height: 1.5; +} + +.subheading +{ + text-align: center; + margin-top: -0.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em; +} + +a:link, +a:visited +{ + text-decoration: none; +} + +hr +{ + visibility: hidden; + margin: 1.5em auto; +} + +ul +{ + list-style-type: none; + padding: 0; + margin: 0 auto; +} + +ul li +{ + text-indent: -1.5em; + padding-left: 1.5em; +} + +.center +{ + text-align: center; +} + +.right +{ + text-align: right; +} + +p.right +{ + margin-right: 1.5em; +} + +.figcenter +{ + margin: 2em auto; +} + +.small-caps +{ + font-variant: small-caps; +} + +a[title].pagenum +{ + position: absolute; + right: 3%; +} + +a[title].pagenum:after +{ + content: attr(title); + border: 1px solid silver; + display: inline; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + color: #808080; + background-color: inherit; + font-style: normal; + padding: 1px 4px 1px 4px; + font-variant: normal; + font-weight: normal; + text-decoration: none; + text-indent: 0; + letter-spacing: 0; +} + +.poetry +{ + text-align: left; +} + +.poetry .stanza +{ + margin: 1.5em 0; +} + +.poetry .line +{ + margin: 0; + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.poetry .indent2 +{ + margin-left: 1em; +} + +.poetry .indent4 +{ + margin-left: 2em; +} + +.poetry .indent8 +{ + margin-left: 4em; +} + +.poetry .indent12 +{ + margin-left: 8em; +} + +.book +{ + text-align: center; + font-size: x-large; +} + +.hanging-indent p +{ + padding-left: 1.5em; + text-indent: -1.5em; +} + +#toc +{ + margin: auto; +} + +#toc th +{ + font-weight: normal; + font-size: smaller; +} + +#toc td +{ + vertical-align: top; + padding: 0.25em 0; +} + +#toc td.right +{ + padding-left: 3em; + vertical-align: bottom; +} + +#toby p +{ + text-align: center; +} + +#recent-poetry +{ + margin: 0 auto; +} + +#recent-poetry .section +{ + padding-top: 1em; +} + +#recent-poetry .indent +{ + text-indent: 1em; +} + +@page +{ + margin: 0.25em; +} + +@media screen +{ + body + { + width: 80%; + max-width: 35em; + margin: auto; + } + + p + { + margin: 0.75em auto; + } + + .page-break + { + margin-top: 8em; + } + + .page-break-after + { + margin-bottom: 8em; + } +} + +@media screen, print +{ + ul + { + max-width: 24em; + } + + .poetry + { + margin-left: 3em; + } +} + +@media print, handheld +{ + p + { + margin: 0; + } + + a:link, + a:visited + { + color: black; + } + + h1, + h2, + .page-break + { + page-break-before: always; + } + + .page-break-after + { + page-break-after: always; + } +} + +@media handheld +{ + body + { + margin: 0; + padding: 0; + width: 95%; + } + + .poetry .stanza + { + margin: 0.75em 0; + } +} +--> +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Guards Came Through and Other Poems, by +Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Guards Came Through and Other Poems + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: November 21, 2011 [EBook #38071] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH *** + + + + +Produced by Gerard Arthus; paksenarrion; Jana Srna; Special +Collections, Florida State University; Lilly Library, +Indiana University; Brooklyn Public Library; Morris Library, +Southern Illinois University and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="page-break figcenter" style="width: 336px;"> +<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" width="336" height="600" alt="Book Cover"/> +</div> + + +<p class="page-break center" style="font-size: x-large; margin: 6em auto; line-height: 1.6;">THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH<br/> +<small>AND OTHER POEMS</small></p> + + +<div class="page-break" style="max-width: 26em; margin: 4em auto; border: 1px solid black;"> +<p class="center" style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">BY THE SAME AUTHOR</p> + +<ul> +<li>SONGS OF ACTION</li> +<li>SONGS OF THE ROAD</li> + +<li style="margin-top: 1em;">THE WHITE COMPANY</li> +<li>MICAH CLARKE</li> +<li>THE REFUGEES</li> +<li>RODNEY STONE</li> +<li>UNCLE BERNAC</li> +<li>THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES</li> +<li>MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES</li> +<li>HIS LAST BOW: SOME REMINISCENCES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES</li> +<li>THE ADVENTURES OF BRIGADIER GERARD</li> +<li>THE SIGN OF FOUR</li> +<li>SIR NIGEL</li> +<li>CAPTAIN OF THE POLESTAR</li> +<li>ROUND THE RED LAMP</li> +<li>THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS</li> +<li>THE TRAGEDY OF THE “KOROSKO”</li> +<li>A DUET, WITH AN OCCASIONAL CHORUS</li> +<li>THE GREEN FLAG, AND OTHER STORIES</li> +<li>THE ADVENTURES OF GERARD</li> +<li>THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES</li> +<li>THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES</li> +<li>THROUGH THE MAGIC DOOR</li> +<li>ROUND THE FIRE STORIES</li> +<li>THE LAST GALLEY</li> +<li>THE LOST WORLD</li> +<li>THE VALLEY OF FEAR</li> +<li>DANGER! AND OTHER STORIES</li> +</ul> + +<p class="center">LONDON: JOHN MURRAY</p> +</div> + + + + +<h1>THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH<br/> +AND OTHER POEMS</h1> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: larger;">BY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: smaller; line-height: 1.5">AUTHOR OF<br/> +“SONGS OF ACTION,” “SONGS OF THE ROAD”</p> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 6em; line-height: 1.5;">LONDON<br/> +JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.<br/> +1919</p> + +<p class="page-break center small-caps">All Rights Reserved</p> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_5" title="5"> </a>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p><span class="small-caps">I must</span> apologize for the size of this booklet, +which can only be justified on the grounds +that there is some demand for the contents +as recitations. I hope presently to combine +whatever is worth preserving in my three +volumes of verse, so as to make a single +collection.</p> + +<p class="right small-caps">Arthur Conan Doyle.</p> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_7" title="7"> </a>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<table id="toc"> +<tr> + <th> </th> + <th class="right">PAGE</th> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>VICTRIX</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THOSE OTHERS</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>HAIG IS MOVING</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE GUNS IN SUSSEX</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>YPRES</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>GROUSING</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE VOLUNTEER</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE NIGHT PATROL</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><a class="pagenum" name="Page_8" title="8"> </a>THE WRECK ON LOCH MCGARRY</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE BIGOT</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE ATHABASCA TRAIL</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>RAGTIME!</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>CHRISTMAS IN WARTIME</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>LINDISFAIRE</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>A PARABLE</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>FATE</td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_9" title="9"> </a>THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Men</span> of the Twenty-first,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Up by the Chalk Pit Wood,</div> +<div class="line">Weak from our wounds and our thirst,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Wanting our sleep and our food</div> +<div class="line">After a day and a night.</div> +<div class="line indent2">God! shall I ever forget?</div> +<div class="line">Beaten and broke in the fight,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But sticking it, sticking it yet,</div> +<div class="line">Trying to hold the line,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Fainting and spent and done;</div> +<div class="line">Always the thud and the whine,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Always the yell of the Hun.</div> +<div class="line">Northumberland, Lancaster, York,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_10" title="10"> </a> +<div class="line indent2">Durham and Somerset,</div> +<div class="line">Fighting alone, worn to the bone,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But sticking it, sticking it yet.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Never a message of hope,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Never a word of cheer,</div> +<div class="line">Fronting Hill 70's shell-swept slope,</div> +<div class="line indent2">With the dull, dead plain in our rear;</div> +<div class="line">Always the shriek of the shell,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Always the roar of the burst,</div> +<div class="line">Always the tortures of Hell,</div> +<div class="line indent2">As waiting and wincing we cursed</div> +<div class="line">Our luck, the guns, and the Boche.</div> +<div class="line indent2">When our Corporal shouted “Stand to!”</div> +<div class="line">And I hear some one cry, “Clear the front for the Guards!”—</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the Guards came through.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Our throats they were parched and hot,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But, Lord! if you'd heard the cheer,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_11" title="11"> </a> +<div class="line">Irish, Welsh and Scot,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Coldstream and Grenadier—</div> +<div class="line">Two Brigades, if you please,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Dressing as straight as a hem.</div> +<div class="line">We, we were down on our knees,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Praying for us and for them,</div> +<div class="line">Praying with tear-wet cheek,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Praying with outstretched hand.</div> +<div class="line">Lord! I could speak for a week,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But how could you understand?</div> +<div class="line">How could your cheeks be wet?</div> +<div class="line indent2">Such feelin's don't come to you;</div> +<div class="line">But how can me or my mates forget</div> +<div class="line indent2">How the Guards came through?</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">“Five yards left extend!”</div> +<div class="line indent2">It passed from rank to rank,</div> +<div class="line">And line after line, with never a bend,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And a touch of the London swank.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_12" title="12"> </a> +<div class="line">A trifle of swank and dash,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Cool as a home parade,</div> +<div class="line">Twinkle, glitter and flash,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Flinching never a shade,</div> +<div class="line">With the shrapnel right in their face,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Doing their Hyde Park stunt,</div> +<div class="line">Swinging along at an easy pace,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Arms at the trail, eyes front.</div> +<div class="line">Man! it was great to see!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Man! it was great to do!</div> +<div class="line">It's a cot, and a hospital ward for me,</div> +<div class="line">But I'll tell them in Blighty wherever I be,</div> +<div class="line indent2">How the Guards came through.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_13" title="13"> </a>VICTRIX</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">How</span> was it then with England?</div> +<div class="line indent2">Her faith was true to her plighted word,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Her strong hand closed on her blunted sword,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Her heart rose high to the foeman's hate,</div> +<div class="line indent2">She walked with God on the hills of Fate—</div> +<div class="line indent4">And all was well with England.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">How was it then with England?</div> +<div class="line indent2">Her soul was wrung with loss and pain,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Her face was grey with her heart's-blood drain,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But her falcon eyes were hard and bright,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Austere and cold as an ice-cave's light—</div> +<div class="line indent4">And all was well with England.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_14" title="14"> </a> +<div class="line">How was it then with England?</div> +<div class="line indent2">Little she said to foe or friend,</div> +<div class="line indent2">True, heart true, to the uttermost end,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Her passion cry was the scathe she wrought,</div> +<div class="line indent2">In flame and steel she voiced her thought—</div> +<div class="line indent4">And all was well with England.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">How was it then with England?</div> +<div class="line indent2">With drooping sword and bended head,</div> +<div class="line indent2">She turned apart and mourned her dead,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Sad sky above, sad earth beneath,</div> +<div class="line indent2">She walked with God in the Vale of Death—</div> +<div class="line indent4">Ah, woe the day for England!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">How is it now with England?</div> +<div class="line indent2">She sees upon her mist-girt path</div> +<div class="line indent2">Dim drifting shapes of fear and wrath.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_15" title="15"> </a> +<div class="line indent2">Hold high the heart! Bend low the knee!</div> +<div class="line indent2">She has been guided, and will be—</div> +<div class="line indent4">And all is well with England.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_16" title="16"> </a>THOSE OTHERS</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Where</span> are those others?—the men who stood</div> +<div class="line">In the first wild spate of the German flood,</div> +<div class="line">And paid full price with their heart's best blood</div> +<div class="line indent2">For the saving of you and me:</div> +<div class="line">French's Contemptibles, haggard and lean,</div> +<div class="line">Allenby's lads of the cavalry screen,</div> +<div class="line">Gunners who fell in Battery L,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And Guardsmen of Landrecies?</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Where are those others who fought and fell,</div> +<div class="line">Outmanned, outgunned and scant of shell,</div> +<div class="line">On the deadly curve of the Ypres hell,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Barring the coast to the last?</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_17" title="17"> </a> +<div class="line">Where are our laddies who died out there,</div> +<div class="line">From Poelcapelle to Festubert,</div> +<div class="line">When the days grew short and the poplars bare</div> +<div class="line indent2">In the cold November blast?</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">For us their toil and for us their pain,</div> +<div class="line">The sordid ditch in the sodden plain,</div> +<div class="line">The Flemish fog and the driving rain,</div> +<div class="line">The cold that cramped and froze;</div> +<div class="line">The weary night, the chill bleak day,</div> +<div class="line">When earth was dark and sky was grey,</div> +<div class="line">And the ragged weeds in the dripping clay</div> +<div class="line indent2">Were all God's world to those.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Where are those others in this glad time,</div> +<div class="line">When the standards wave and the joy-bells chime,</div> +<div class="line">And London stands with outstretched hands</div> +<div class="line indent2">Waving her children in?</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_18" title="18"> </a> +<div class="line">Athwart our joy still comes the thought</div> +<div class="line">Of the dear dead boys, whose lives have bought</div> +<div class="line">All that sweet victory has brought</div> +<div class="line indent2">To us who lived to win.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">To each his dreams, and mine to me,</div> +<div class="line">But as the shadows fall I see</div> +<div class="line">That ever-glorious company—</div> +<div class="line indent2">The men who bide out there.</div> +<div class="line">Rifleman, Highlander, Fusilier,</div> +<div class="line">Airman and Sapper and Grenadier,</div> +<div class="line">With flaunting banner and wave and cheer,</div> +<div class="line indent2">They flow through the darkening air.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And yours are there, and so are mine,</div> +<div class="line">Rank upon rank and line on line,</div> +<div class="line">With smiling lips and eyes that shine,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And bearing proud and high.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_19" title="19"> </a> +<div class="line">Past they go with their measured tread,</div> +<div class="line">These are the victors, these—the dead!</div> +<div class="line">Ah, sink the knee and bare the head</div> +<div class="line indent2">As the hallowed host goes by!</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_20" title="20"> </a>HAIG IS MOVING</h2> + +<p class="subheading small-caps">August 1918</p> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent12"><span class="small-caps">Haig</span> is moving!</div> +<div class="line">Three plain words are all that matter,</div> +<div class="line">Mid the gossip and the chatter,</div> +<div class="line">Hopes in speeches, fears in papers,</div> +<div class="line">Pessimistic froth and vapours—</div> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +<div class="line">We can turn from German scheming,</div> +<div class="line">From humanitarian dreaming,</div> +<div class="line">From assertions, contradictions,</div> +<div class="line">Twisted facts and solemn fictions—</div> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_21" title="21"> </a> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +<div class="line">All the weary idle phrases,</div> +<div class="line">Empty blamings, empty praises,</div> +<div class="line">Here's an end to their recital,</div> +<div class="line">There is only one thing vital—</div> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +<div class="line">He is moving, he is gaining,</div> +<div class="line">And the whole hushed world is straining,</div> +<div class="line">Straining, yearning, for the vision</div> +<div class="line">Of the doom and the decision—</div> +<div class="line indent12">Haig is moving!</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_22" title="22"> </a>THE GUNS IN SUSSEX</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Light</span> green of grass and richer green of bush</div> +<div class="line indent2">Slope upwards to the darkest green of fir.</div> +<div class="line">How still! How deathly still! And yet the hush</div> +<div class="line indent2">Shivers and trembles with some subtle stir,</div> +<div class="line">Some far-off throbbing like a muffled drum,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Beaten in broken rhythm oversea,</div> +<div class="line">To play the last funereal march of some</div> +<div class="line indent2">Who die to-day that Europe may be free.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The deep-blue heaven, curving from the green,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Spans with its shimmering arch the flowery zone;</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_23" title="23"> </a> +<div class="line">In all God's earth there is no gentler scene,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And yet I hear that awesome monotone.</div> +<div class="line">Above the circling midge's piping shrill,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the long droning of the questing bee,</div> +<div class="line">Above all sultry summer sounds, it still</div> +<div class="line indent2">Mutters its ceaseless menaces to me.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And as I listen, all the garden fair</div> +<div class="line indent2">Darkens to plains of misery and death,</div> +<div class="line">And, looking past the roses, I see there</div> +<div class="line indent2">Those sordid furrows with the rising breath</div> +<div class="line">Of all things foul and black. My heart is hot</div> +<div class="line indent2">Within me as I view it, and I cry,</div> +<div class="line">“Better the misery of these men's lot</div> +<div class="line indent2">Than all the peace that comes to such as I!”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_24" title="24"> </a> +<div class="line">And strange that in the pauses of the sound</div> +<div class="line indent2">I hear the children's laughter as they roam,</div> +<div class="line">And then their mother calls, and all around</div> +<div class="line indent2">Rise up the gentle murmurs of a home.</div> +<div class="line">But still I gaze afar, and at the sight</div> +<div class="line indent2">My whole soul softens to its heart-felt prayer,</div> +<div class="line">“Spirit of Justice, Thou for whom they fight,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Ah, turn in mercy to our lads out there!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">“The froward peoples have deserved Thy wrath,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And on them is the Judgment as of old,</div> +<div class="line">But if they wandered from the hallowed path</div> +<div class="line indent2">Yet is their retribution manifold.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_25" title="25"> </a> +<div class="line">Behold all Europe writhing on the rack,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The sins of fathers grinding down the sons!</div> +<div class="line">How long, O Lord?” He sends no answer back,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But still I hear the mutter of the guns.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_26" title="26"> </a>YPRES</h2> + +<p class="subheading small-caps">September, 1915</p> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Push</span> on, my Lord of Würtemberg, across the Flemish Fen!</div> +<div class="line indent2">See where the lure of Ypres calls you!</div> +<div class="line">There's just one ragged British line of Plumer's weary men;</div> +<div class="line">It's true they held you off before, but venture it again,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Come, try your luck, whatever fate befalls you!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">You've been some little time, my Lord. Perhaps you scarce remember</div> +<div class="line indent2">The far-off early days of that resistance.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_27" title="27"> </a> +<div class="line">Was it in October last? Or was it in November?</div> +<div class="line">And now the leaves are turning and you stand in mid-September</div> +<div class="line indent2">Still staring at the Belfry in the distance.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Can you recall the fateful day—a day of drifting skies,</div> +<div class="line indent2">When you started on the famous Calais onset?</div> +<div class="line">Can it be the War-Lord blundered when he urged the enterprise?</div> +<div class="line">For surely it's a weary while since first before your eyes</div> +<div class="line indent2">That old Belfry rose against the sunset.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_28" title="28"> </a> +<div class="line">You held council at your quarters when the budding Alexanders</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the Pickel-haubed Cæsars gave their reasons.</div> +<div class="line">Was there one amongst that bristle-headed circle of commanders</div> +<div class="line">Ever ventured the opinion that a little town of Flanders</div> +<div class="line indent2">Would hold you pounded here through all the seasons?</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">You all clasped hands upon it. You would break the British line,</div> +<div class="line indent2">You would smash a road to westward with your host,</div> +<div class="line">The howitzers should thunder and the Uhlan lances shine</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_29" title="29"> </a> +<div class="line">Till Calais heard the blaring of the distant “Wacht am Rhein,”</div> +<div class="line indent2">As you topped the grassy uplands of the coast.</div> +<div class="line">Said the Graf von Feuer-Essen, “It's a fact beyond discussion,</div> +<div class="line indent2">That man to man we can outfight the foe.</div> +<div class="line">There is valour in the French, there is patience in the Russian,</div> +<div class="line">But blend all war-like virtues and you get the lordly Prussian,”</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the bristle-headed murmured, “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Das ist so.</i>”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">“And the British,” cried another, “they are mercenary cattle,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Without one noble impulse of the soul,</div> +<div class="line">Degenerate and drunken; if the dollars chink and rattle,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_30" title="30"> </a> +<div class="line">'Tis the only sort of music that will call them to the battle.”</div> +<div class="line indent2">And all the bristle-headed cried, “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ja wohl!</i>”</div> +<div class="line">And so next day your battle rolled across the Menin Plain,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Where Capper's men stood lonely to your wrath.</div> +<div class="line">You broke him, and you broke him, but you broke him all in vain,</div> +<div class="line">For he and his contemptibles kept closing up again,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the khaki bar was still across your path.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And on the day when Gheluvelt lay smoking in the sun,</div> +<div class="line indent2">When Von Deimling stormed so hotly in the van,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_31" title="31"> </a> +<div class="line">You smiled as Haig reeled backwards and you thought him on the run,</div> +<div class="line">But, alas for dreams that vanish, for before the day was done</div> +<div class="line indent2">It was you, my Lord of Würtemberg, that ran.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">A dreary day was that—but another came, more dreary,</div> +<div class="line indent2">When the Guard from Arras led your fierce attacks,</div> +<div class="line">Spruce and splendid in the morning were the Potsdam Grenadiere,</div> +<div class="line">But not so spruce that evening when they staggered spent and weary,</div> +<div class="line indent2">With those cursed British storming at their backs.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_32" title="32"> </a> +<div class="line">You knew—your spies had told you—that the ranks were scant and thin,</div> +<div class="line indent2">That the guns were short of shell and very few,</div> +<div class="line">By all Bernhardi's maxims you were surely bound to win,</div> +<div class="line">There's the open town before you. Haste, my Lord, and enter in,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Or the War-Lord may have telegrams for you.</div> +<div class="line">Then came the rainy winter, when the price was ever dearer,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Every time you neared the prize of which you dreamed,</div> +<div class="line">Each day the Belfry faced you but you never brought it nearer,</div> +<div class="line">Each night you saw it clearly but you never saw it clearer.</div> +<div class="line indent2">Ah, what a weary time it must have seemed!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_33" title="33"> </a> +<div class="line">At last there came the Easter when you loosed the coward gases,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Surely you have got the rascals now!</div> +<div class="line">You could see them spent and choking as you watched them thro' your glasses,</div> +<div class="line">Yes, they choke, but never waver, and again the moment passes</div> +<div class="line indent2">Without one leaf of laurel for your brow.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Then at Hooge you had them helpless, for their guns were one to ten,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And you blasted trench and traverse at your will,</div> +<div class="line">You had them dead and buried, but they still sprang up again.</div> +<div class="line">“<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Donnerwetter!</i>” cried your Lordship, “<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Donnerwetter!</i>” cried your men,</div> +<div class="line indent2">For their very ghosts were guarding Ypres still.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_34" title="34"> </a> +<div class="line">Active, Guards, Reserve—men of every corps and name</div> +<div class="line indent2">That the bugles of the War-Lord muster in,</div> +<div class="line">Each in turn you tried them, but the story was the same;</div> +<div class="line">Play it how you would, my Lord, you never won the game,</div> +<div class="line indent2">No, never in a twelvemonth did you win.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">A year, my Lord of Würtemberg—a year, or nearly so,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Since first you faced the British <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">vis-à-vis</i>!</div> +<div class="line">Your learned Commandanten are the men who ought to know,</div> +<div class="line">But to ordinary mortals it would seem a trifle slow,</div> +<div class="line indent2">If you really mean to travel to the sea.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_35" title="35"> </a> +<div class="line">If you cannot <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">straf</i> the British, since they <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">strafen</i> you so well,</div> +<div class="line indent2">You can safely smash the town that lies so near,</div> +<div class="line">So it's down with arch and buttress, down with belfry and with bell,</div> +<div class="line">And it's <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">hoch</i> the seven-seven that can drop the petrol shell</div> +<div class="line indent2">On the shrines that pious hands have loved to rear!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Fair Ypres was a relic of the soul of other days,</div> +<div class="line indent2">A poet's dream, a wanderer's delight,</div> +<div class="line">We will keep it as a symbol of your brute Teutonic ways</div> +<div class="line">That millions yet unborn may come and curse you as they gaze</div> +<div class="line indent2">At this token of your impotence and spite.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_36" title="36"> </a> +<div class="line">For shame, my Lord of Würtemberg! Across the Flemish Fen</div> +<div class="line indent2">See where the little army calls you.</div> +<div class="line">It's just the old familiar line of fifty thousand men,</div> +<div class="line">They've beat you once or twice, my Lord, but venture it again,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Come, try your luck, whatever fate befalls you.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_37" title="37"> </a>GROUSING</h2> + +<div class="subheading" id="toby"> +<p>“The army swore terribly in Flanders.”</p> + +<p class="small-caps" style="margin-left: 6em;">Uncle Toby.</p> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">What</span> do the soldiers say?</div> +<div class="line indent2">“Dam! Dam! Dam!</div> +<div class="line">I don't mind cold, I don't mind heat,</div> +<div class="line">Over the top for a Sunday treat,</div> +<div class="line">With Fritz I'll always take my spell,</div> +<div class="line">But I want my grub, and where in hell</div> +<div class="line indent2">Is the jam?”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">What does the officer say?</div> +<div class="line indent2">“Dam! Dam! Dam!</div> +<div class="line">Mud and misery, flies and stench,</div> +<div class="line">Piggin' it here in a beastly trench,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_38" title="38"> </a> +<div class="line">But what I mean, by Jove, you see,</div> +<div class="line">I like my men and they don't mind me,</div> +<div class="line">So, on the whole, I'd rather be</div> +<div class="line indent2">Where I am.”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">What does the enemy say?</div> +<div class="line indent2">“Kolossal Verdam!</div> +<div class="line">They told me, when the war began,</div> +<div class="line">The British Tommy always ran,</div> +<div class="line">And so he does, just as they said,</div> +<div class="line">But, <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Donnerwetter!</i> it's straight ahead,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Like a ram.”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">What does the public say?</div> +<div class="line indent2">“Dam! Dam! Dam!</div> +<div class="line">They tax me here, they tax me there,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_39" title="39"> </a> +<div class="line">Bread is dear and the cupboard bare,</div> +<div class="line">I'm bound to grouse, but if it's the way</div> +<div class="line">To win the war, why then I'll pay</div> +<div class="line indent2">Like a lamb.”</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_40" title="40"> </a>THE VOLUNTEER</h2> + +<p class="subheading">(1914–1919)</p> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">The</span> dreams are passed and gone, old man,</div> +<div class="line indent2">That came to you and me,</div> +<div class="line">Of a six days' stunt on an east coast front,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the Hun with his back to the sea.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Lord, how we worked and swotted sore</div> +<div class="line indent2">To be fit when the day should come!</div> +<div class="line">Four years, my lad, and five months more,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Since first we followed the drum.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Though “Follow the drum” is a bit too grand,</div> +<div class="line indent2">For we ran to no such frills;</div> +<div class="line">It was just the whistles of Nature's band</div> +<div class="line indent2">That heartened us up the hills.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_41" title="41"> </a> +<div class="line">That and the toot of the corporal's flute,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Until he could blow no more,</div> +<div class="line">And the lilt of “Sussex by the Sea,”</div> +<div class="line indent2">The marching song of the corps.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Those hills! My word, you would soon get fit,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Be you ever so stale and slack,</div> +<div class="line">If you pad it with rifle and marching kit</div> +<div class="line indent2">To Rotherfield Hill and back!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Drills in hall, and drills outdoors,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And drills of every type,</div> +<div class="line">Till we wore our boots with forming fours,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And our coats with “Shoulder hipe!”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">No glory ours, no swank, no pay,</div> +<div class="line indent2">One dull eventless grind;</div> +<div class="line">Find yourself, and nothing a day</div> +<div class="line indent2">Were the terms that the old boys signed.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_42" title="42"> </a> +<div class="line">Just drill and march and drill again,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And swot at the old parade,</div> +<div class="line">But they got two hundred thousand men.</div> +<div class="line indent2">Not bad for the old brigade!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">A good two hundred thousand came,</div> +<div class="line indent2">On the chance of that east coast fight;</div> +<div class="line">They may have been old and stiff and lame,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But, by George, their hearts were right!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Discipline! My! “Eyes right!” they cried,</div> +<div class="line indent2">As we passed the drill hall door,</div> +<div class="line">And left it at that—so we marched cock-eyed</div> +<div class="line indent2">From three to half-past four.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And solid! Why, after a real wet bout</div> +<div class="line indent2">In a hole in the Flanders mud,</div> +<div class="line">It would puzzle the Boche to fetch us out,</div> +<div class="line indent2">For we couldn't get out if we would!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_43" title="43"> </a> +<div class="line">Some think we could have stood war's test,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Some say that we could not,</div> +<div class="line">But a chap can only do his best,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And offer all he's got.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Fall out, the guard! The old home guard!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Pile arms! Right turn! Dismiss!</div> +<div class="line">No grousing, even if it's hard</div> +<div class="line indent2">To break our ranks like this.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">We can't show much in the way of fun</div> +<div class="line indent2">For four and a half years gone;</div> +<div class="line">If we'd had our chance—just one! just one!—</div> +<div class="line indent2">Carry on, old Sport, carry on!</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_44" title="44"> </a>THE NIGHT PATROL</h2> + +<p class="subheading small-caps">September 1918</p> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Behind</span> me on the darkened pier</div> +<div class="line indent2">They crowd and chatter, man and maid,</div> +<div class="line">A coon-song gently strikes the ear,</div> +<div class="line indent2">A flapper giggles in the shade.</div> +<div class="line">There where the in-turned lantern gleams</div> +<div class="line indent2">It shines on khaki and on brass;</div> +<div class="line">Across its yellow slanting beams</div> +<div class="line indent2">The arm-locked lovers slowly pass.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Out in the darkness one far light</div> +<div class="line indent2">Throbs like a pulse, and fades away—</div> +<div class="line">Some signal on the guarded Wight,</div> +<div class="line indent2">From Helen's Point to Bembridge Bay.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_45" title="45"> </a> +<div class="line">An eastern wind blows chill and raw,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Cheerless and black the waters lie,</div> +<div class="line">And as I gaze athwart the haze,</div> +<div class="line indent2">I see the night patrol go by.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Creeping shadows blur the gloom,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Thicken and darken, pass and fade;</div> +<div class="line">Again and yet again they loom,</div> +<div class="line indent2">One ruby spark above each shade—</div> +<div class="line">Twelve ships in all! They glide so near,</div> +<div class="line indent2">One hears the wave the fore-foot curled,</div> +<div class="line">And yet to those upon the pier</div> +<div class="line indent2">They seem some other sterner world.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The coon-song whimpers to a wail,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The treble laughter sinks and dies,</div> +<div class="line">The lovers cluster on the rail,</div> +<div class="line indent2">With whispered words and straining eyes.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_46" title="46"> </a> +<div class="line">One hush of awe, and then once more</div> +<div class="line indent2">The vision fades for them and me,</div> +<div class="line">And there is laughter on the shore,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And silent duty on the sea.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_47" title="47"> </a>THE WRECK ON LOCH McGARRY</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">If</span> you should search all Scotland round,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The mainland, skerries, and the islands,</div> +<div class="line">A grimmer spot could not be found</div> +<div class="line indent2">Than Loch McGarry in the Highlands.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Pent in by frowning mountains high,</div> +<div class="line indent2">It stretches silent as the tomb,</div> +<div class="line">Turbid and thick its waters lie,</div> +<div class="line indent2">No eye can pierce their yellow gloom.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">'Twas here that on a summer day</div> +<div class="line indent2">Four tourists hired a crazy wherry.</div> +<div class="line">No warning voices bade them stay,</div> +<div class="line indent2">As they pushed out on Loch McGarry.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_48" title="48"> </a> +<div class="line">McFarlane, Chairman of the Board,</div> +<div class="line indent2">A grim hard-fisted son of lucre,</div> +<div class="line">His thoughts were ever on his hoard,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And life a money-game, like Euchre.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Bob Ainslie, late of London Town,</div> +<div class="line indent2">A spruce young butterfly of fashion,</div> +<div class="line">A wrinkle in his dressing-gown</div> +<div class="line indent2">Would rouse an apoplectic passion.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">John Waters, John the self-absorbed,</div> +<div class="line indent2">With thoughts for ever inward bent,</div> +<div class="line">Complacent, self-contained, self-orbed,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Wrapped in eternal self-content.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Lastly coquettish Mrs. Wild,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Chattering, rowdy, empty-headed;</div> +<div class="line">At sight of her the whole world smiled,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Except the wretch whom she had wedded.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_49" title="49"> </a> +<div class="line">Such were the four who sailed that day,</div> +<div class="line indent2">To the Highlands each a stranger;</div> +<div class="line">Sunlit and calm the wide loch lay,</div> +<div class="line indent2">With not a hint of coming danger.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Drifting they watched the heather hue,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The waters and the cliffs that bound them;</div> +<div class="line">The air was still, the sky was blue,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Deceitful peace lay all around them.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">McFarlane pondered on the stocks,</div> +<div class="line indent2">John Waters on his own perfection,</div> +<div class="line">Bob Ainslie's thoughts were on his socks,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And Mrs. Wild's on her complexion.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">When sudden—oh, that dreadful scream!</div> +<div class="line indent2">That cry from panic fear begotten!</div> +<div class="line">The boat is gaping in each seam,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The worn-out planks are old and rotten.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_50" title="50"> </a> +<div class="line">With two small oars they work and strain,</div> +<div class="line indent2">A long mile from the nearer shore</div> +<div class="line">They cease—their efforts are in vain;</div> +<div class="line indent2">She's sinking fast, and all is o'er.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The yellow water, thick as pap,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Is crawling, crawling to the thwarts,</div> +<div class="line">And as they mark its upward lap,</div> +<div class="line indent2">So fear goes crawling up their hearts.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Slowly, slowly, thick as pap,</div> +<div class="line indent2">The creeping yellow waters rise;</div> +<div class="line">Like drowning mice within a trap,</div> +<div class="line indent2">They stare around with frantic eyes.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Ah, how clearly they could see</div> +<div class="line indent2">Every sin and shame and error!</div> +<div class="line">How they vowed that saints they'd be,</div> +<div class="line indent2">If delivered from this terror!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_51" title="51"> </a> +<div class="line">How they squirmed and how they squealed!</div> +<div class="line indent2">How they shouted for assistance!</div> +<div class="line">How they fruitlessly appealed</div> +<div class="line indent2">To the shepherds in the distance!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">How they sobbed and how they moaned,</div> +<div class="line indent2">As the waters kept encroaching!</div> +<div class="line">How they wept and stormed and groaned,</div> +<div class="line indent2">As they saw their fate approaching!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And they vowed each good resolve</div> +<div class="line indent2">Should be permanent as granite,</div> +<div class="line">Never, never, to dissolve,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Firm and lasting like our planet.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">See them sit, aghast and shrinking!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Surely it could not be true!</div> +<div class="line">“Oh, have mercy! Oh, we're sinking!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Oh, good Lord, what <em>shall</em> we do!”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_52" title="52"> </a> +<div class="line">Ah, it's coming! Now she founders!</div> +<div class="line indent2">See the crazy wherry reel!</div> +<div class="line">Downward to the rocks she flounders—</div> +<div class="line indent2">Just one foot beneath her keel!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">In the shallow, turbid water</div> +<div class="line indent2">Lay the saving reef below.</div> +<div class="line">Oh, the waste of high emotion!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Oh, the useless fear and woe!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Late that day four sopping tourists</div> +<div class="line indent2">To their quarters made their way,</div> +<div class="line">And the brushes of Futurists</div> +<div class="line indent2">Scarce could paint their disarray.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And with half-amused compassion</div> +<div class="line indent2">They were viewed from the hotel,</div> +<div class="line">From the pulp-clad beau of fashion,</div> +<div class="line indent2">To the saturated belle.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_53" title="53"> </a> +<div class="line">But a change was in their features,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And that change has come to tarry,</div> +<div class="line">For they all are altered creatures</div> +<div class="line indent2">Since the wreck of Loch McGarry.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Now McFarlane never utters</div> +<div class="line indent2">Any talk of bills or bullion,</div> +<div class="line">But continually mutters</div> +<div class="line indent2">Texts from Cyril or Tertullian.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">As to Ainslie, he's not caring</div> +<div class="line indent2">How the new-cut collar lies,</div> +<div class="line">And has been detected wearing</div> +<div class="line indent2">Dinner-jackets with white ties.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Waters, who had never thought</div> +<div class="line indent2">In his life of others' needs,</div> +<div class="line">Has most generously bought</div> +<div class="line indent2">A nursing-home for invalids.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_54" title="54"> </a> +<div class="line">And the lady—ah, the lady!</div> +<div class="line indent2">She has turned from paths of sin,</div> +<div class="line">And her husband's face so shady</div> +<div class="line indent2">Now is brightened by a grin.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">So misfortunes of to-day</div> +<div class="line indent2">Are the blessings of to-morrow,</div> +<div class="line">And the wisest cannot say</div> +<div class="line indent2">What is joy and what is sorrow.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">If your soul is arable</div> +<div class="line indent2">You can start this seed within it,</div> +<div class="line">And my tiny parable</div> +<div class="line indent2">May just help you to begin it.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_55" title="55"> </a>THE BIGOT</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">The</span> foolish Roman fondly thought</div> +<div class="line indent2">That gods must be the same to all,</div> +<div class="line">Each alien idol might be brought</div> +<div class="line indent2">Within their broad Pantheon Hall.</div> +<div class="line">The vision of a jealous Jove</div> +<div class="line indent2">Was far above their feeble ken;</div> +<div class="line">They had no Lord who gave them love,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But scowled upon all other men.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">But in our dispensation bright,</div> +<div class="line indent2">What noble progress have we made!</div> +<div class="line">We know that we are in the light,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And outer races in the shade.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_56" title="56"> </a> +<div class="line">Our kindly creed ensures us this—</div> +<div class="line indent2">That Turk and infidel and Jew</div> +<div class="line">Are safely banished from the bliss</div> +<div class="line indent2">That's guaranteed to me and you.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The Roman mother understood</div> +<div class="line indent2">That, if the babe upon her breast</div> +<div class="line">Untimely died, the gods were good,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the child's welfare manifest.</div> +<div class="line">With tender guides the soul would go</div> +<div class="line indent2">And there, in some Elysian bower,</div> +<div class="line">The tiny bud plucked here below</div> +<div class="line indent2">Would ripen to the perfect flower.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Poor simpleton! Our faith makes plain</div> +<div class="line indent2">That, if no blest baptismal word</div> +<div class="line">Has cleared the babe, it bears the stain</div> +<div class="line indent2">Which faithless Adam had incurred.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_57" title="57"> </a> +<div class="line">How philosophical an aim!</div> +<div class="line indent2">How wise and well-conceived a plan</div> +<div class="line">Which holds the new-born babe to blame</div> +<div class="line indent2">For all the sins of early man!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Nay, speak not of its tender grace,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But hearken to our dogma wise:</div> +<div class="line">Guilt lies behind that dimpled face,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And sin looks out from gentle eyes.</div> +<div class="line">Quick, quick, the water and the bowl!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Quick with the words that lift the load!</div> +<div class="line">Oh, hasten, ere that tiny soul</div> +<div class="line indent2">Shall pay the debt old Adam owed!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The Roman thought the souls that erred</div> +<div class="line indent2">Would linger in some nether gloom,</div> +<div class="line">But somewhere, sometime, would be spared</div> +<div class="line indent2">To find some peace beyond the tomb.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_58" title="58"> </a> +<div class="line">In those dark halls, enshadowed, vast,</div> +<div class="line indent2">They flitted ever, sad and thin,</div> +<div class="line">Mourning the unforgotten past</div> +<div class="line indent2">Until they shed the taint of sin.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And Pluto brooded over all</div> +<div class="line indent2">Within that land of night and fear,</div> +<div class="line">Enthroned in some dark Judgment Hall,</div> +<div class="line indent2">A god himself, reserved, austere.</div> +<div class="line">How thin and colourless and tame!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Compare our nobler scheme with it,</div> +<div class="line">The howling souls, the leaping flame,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And all the tortures of the pit!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Foolish half-hearted Roman hell!</div> +<div class="line indent2">To us is left the higher thought</div> +<div class="line">Of that eternal torture cell</div> +<div class="line indent2">Whereto the sinner shall be brought.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_59" title="59"> </a> +<div class="line">Out with the thought that God could share</div> +<div class="line indent2">Our weak relenting pity sense,</div> +<div class="line">Or ever condescend to spare</div> +<div class="line indent2">The wretch who gave Him just offence!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">'Tis just ten thousand years ago</div> +<div class="line indent2">Since the vile sinner left his clay,</div> +<div class="line">And yet no pity can he know,</div> +<div class="line indent2">For as he lies in hell to-day</div> +<div class="line">So when ten thousand years have run</div> +<div class="line indent2">Still shall he lie in endless night.</div> +<div class="line">O God of Love! O Holy One!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Have we not read Thy ways aright?</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The godly man in heaven shall dwell,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And live in joy before the throne,</div> +<div class="line">Though somewhere down in nether hell</div> +<div class="line indent2">His wife or children writhe and groan.</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_60" title="60"> </a> +<div class="line">From his bright Empyrean height</div> +<div class="line indent2">He sees the reek from that abyss—</div> +<div class="line">What Pagan ever dreamed a sight</div> +<div class="line indent2">So holy and sublime as this!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Poor foolish folk! Had they begun</div> +<div class="line indent2">To weigh the myths that they professed,</div> +<div class="line">One hour of reason and each one</div> +<div class="line indent2">Would surely stand a fraud confessed.</div> +<div class="line">Pretending to believe each deed</div> +<div class="line indent2">Of Theseus or of Hercules,</div> +<div class="line">With fairy tales of Ganymede,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And gods of rocks and gods of trees!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">No, no, had they our purer light</div> +<div class="line indent2">They would have learned some saner tale</div> +<div class="line">Of Balaam's ass, or Samson's might,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Or prophet Jonah and his whale,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_61" title="61"> </a> +<div class="line">Of talking serpents and their ways,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Through which our foolish parents strayed,</div> +<div class="line">And how there passed three nights and days</div> +<div class="line indent2">Before the sun or moon was made!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line" style="margin-left: 4em; letter-spacing: 1.5em;">· · · ·</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">O Bigotry, you crowning sin!</div> +<div class="line indent2">All evil that a man can do</div> +<div class="line">Has earthly bounds, nor can begin</div> +<div class="line indent2">To match the mischief done by you—</div> +<div class="line">You, who would force the source of love</div> +<div class="line indent2">To play your small sectarian part,</div> +<div class="line">And mould the mercy from above</div> +<div class="line indent2">To fit your own contracted heart.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_62" title="62"> </a>THE ATHABASCA TRAIL</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">My</span> life is gliding downwards; it speeds swifter to the day</div> +<div class="line">When it shoots the last dark cañon to the Plains of Far-away,</div> +<div class="line">But while its stream is running through the years that are to be,</div> +<div class="line">The mighty voice of Canada will ever call to me.</div> +<div class="line">I shall hear the roar of rivers where the rapids foam and tear,</div> +<div class="line">I shall smell the virgin upland with its balsam-laden air,</div> +<div class="line">And shall dream that I am riding down the winding woody vale</div> +<div class="line">With the packer and the packhorse on the Athabasca Trail.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_63" title="63"> </a> +<div class="line">I have passed the warden cities at the Eastern water-gate</div> +<div class="line">Where the hero and the martyr laid the corner stone of State,</div> +<div class="line">The habitant, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coureur-des-bois</i>, and hardy voyageur—</div> +<div class="line">Where lives a breed more strong at need to venture or endure?</div> +<div class="line">I have seen the gorge of Erie where the roaring waters run,</div> +<div class="line">I have crossed the Inland Ocean, lying golden in the sun,</div> +<div class="line">But the last and best and sweetest is the ride by hill and dale</div> +<div class="line">With the packer and the packhorse on the Athabasca Trail.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_64" title="64"> </a> +<div class="line">I'll dream again of fields of grain that stretch from sky to sky</div> +<div class="line">And the little prairie hamlets where the cars go roaring by,</div> +<div class="line">Wooden hamlets as I saw them—noble cities still to be,</div> +<div class="line">To girdle stately Canada with gems from sea to sea.</div> +<div class="line">Mother of a mighty manhood, land of glamour and of hope,</div> +<div class="line">From the eastward sea-swept islands to the sunny western slope,</div> +<div class="line">Ever more my heart is with you, ever more till life shall fail</div> +<div class="line">I'll be out with pack and packer on the Athabasca Trail.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_65" title="65"> </a>RAGTIME!</h2> + +<p class="subheading" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5em;">[“During the catastrophe the band of the <i>Titanic</i> +played negro melodies and ragtime until the last +moment, when they broke into a hymn.”—<span class="small-caps">Daily +Paper.</span>]</p> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Ragtime!</span> Ragtime! Keep it going still!</div> +<div class="line">Let them hear the ragtime! Play it with a will!</div> +<div class="line">Women in the lifeboats, men upon the wreck,</div> +<div class="line">Take heart to hear the ragtime lilting down the deck.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Ragtime! Ragtime! Yet another tune!</div> +<div class="line">Now the “Darkey Dandy,” now “The Yellow Coon!”</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_66" title="66"> </a> +<div class="line">Brace against the bulwarks if the stand's askew,</div> +<div class="line">Find your footing as you can, but keep the music true!</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">There's glowing hell beneath us where the shattered boilers roar,</div> +<div class="line">The ship is listing and awash, the boats will hold no more!</div> +<div class="line">There's nothing more that you can do, and nothing you can mend,</div> +<div class="line">Only keep the ragtime playing to the end.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Don't forget the time, boys! Eyes upon the score!</div> +<div class="line">Never heed the wavelets sobbing down the floor!</div> +<div class="line">Play it as you played it when with eager feet</div> +<div class="line">A hundred pair of dancers were stamping to the beat.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_67" title="67"> </a> +<div class="line">Stamping to the ragtime down the lamp-lit deck,</div> +<div class="line">With shine of glossy linen and with gleam of snowy neck,</div> +<div class="line">They've other thoughts to think to-night, and other things to do,</div> +<div class="line">But the tinkle of the ragtime may help to see them through.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Shut off, shut off the ragtime! The lights are falling low!</div> +<div class="line">The deck is buckling under us! She's sinking by the bow!</div> +<div class="line">One hymn of hope from dying hands on dying ears to fall—</div> +<div class="line">Gently the music fades away—and so, God rest us all!</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_68" title="68"> </a>CHRISTMAS IN WARTIME</h2> + +<h3>1916</h3> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Cheer</span> oh, comrades, we can bide the blast</div> +<div class="line indent2">And face the gloom until it shall grow lighter.</div> +<div class="line">What though one Christmas should be overcast,</div> +<div class="line indent2">If duty done makes all the others brighter.</div> +</div> +</div> + +<h3>1917<br/> +<small>THE LAST LAP</small></h3> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">We seldom were quick off the mark,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And sprinting was never our game;</div> +<div class="line">But when it's insistence and hold-for-the-distance,</div> +<div class="line indent2">We've never been beat at that same.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_69" title="69"> </a> +<div class="line">The first lap was all to the Hun,</div> +<div class="line indent2">At the second we still saw his back;</div> +<div class="line">But we knew how to wait and to spurt down the straight,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Till we left him dead-beat on the track.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">He's a bluffer for all he is worth,</div> +<div class="line indent2">But he's winded and done to the core,</div> +<div class="line">So the last lap is here, with the tape very near,</div> +<div class="line indent2">And the old colours well to the fore.</div> +</div> +</div> + +<h3>1918</h3> + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Not merry! No—the words would grate,</div> +<div class="line indent2">With gaps at every table-side,</div> +<div class="line">But chastened, thankful, calm, sedate,</div> +<div class="line indent2">Be your victorious Christmas-tide.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_70" title="70"> </a>LINDISFAIRE</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Horses</span> go down the dingy lane,</div> +<div class="line">But never a horse comes up again.</div> +<div class="line">The greasy yard where the red hides lie</div> +<div class="line">Marks the place where the horses die.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Wheat was sinking year by year,</div> +<div class="line">I bought things cheap, I sold them dear;</div> +<div class="line">Rent was heavy and taxes high,</div> +<div class="line">And a weary-hearted man was I.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">In Lindisfaire I walked my grounds,</div> +<div class="line">I hadn't the heart to ride to hounds;</div> +<div class="line">And as I walked in black despair,</div> +<div class="line">I saw my old bay hunter there.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_71" title="71"> </a> +<div class="line">He tried to nuzzle against my cheek,</div> +<div class="line">He looked the grief he could not speak;</div> +<div class="line">But no caress came back again,</div> +<div class="line">For harder times make harder men.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">My thoughts were set on stable rent,</div> +<div class="line">On money saved and money spent,</div> +<div class="line">On weekly bills for forage lost,</div> +<div class="line">And all the old bay hunter cost.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">For though a flier in the past,</div> +<div class="line">His days of service long were past,</div> +<div class="line">His gait was stiff, his eyes were dim,</div> +<div class="line">And I could find no use for him.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">I turned away with heart of gloom,</div> +<div class="line">And sent for Will, my father's groom,</div> +<div class="line">The old, old groom, whose worn-out face</div> +<div class="line">Was like the fortune of our race.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_72" title="72"> </a> +<div class="line">I gave my order sharp and hard,</div> +<div class="line">“Go, ride him to the knacker's yard;</div> +<div class="line">He'll fetch two pounds, it may be three;</div> +<div class="line">Sell him, and bring the price to me.”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">I saw the old groom wince away,</div> +<div class="line">He looked the thoughts he dared not say;</div> +<div class="line">Then from his fob he slowly drew</div> +<div class="line">A leather pouch of faded hue.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">“Master,” said he, “my means are small,</div> +<div class="line">This purse of leather holds them all;</div> +<div class="line">But I have neither kith nor kin,</div> +<div class="line">I'll pay your price for Prince's skin.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">“My brother rents the Nether Farm,</div> +<div class="line">And he will hold him safe from harm</div> +<div class="line">In the great field where he may graze,</div> +<div class="line">And see the finish of his days.”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_73" title="73"> </a> +<div class="line">With dimming eyes I saw him stand,</div> +<div class="line">Two pounds were in his shaking hand;</div> +<div class="line">I gave a curse to drown the sob,</div> +<div class="line">And thrust the purse within his fob.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">“May God do this and more to me</div> +<div class="line">If we should ever part, we three,</div> +<div class="line">Master and horse and faithful friend,</div> +<div class="line">We'll share together to the end!”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">You'll think I'm playing it on you,</div> +<div class="line">I give my word the thing is true;</div> +<div class="line">I hadn't hardly made the vow,</div> +<div class="line">Before I heard a view-halloo.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">And, looking round, whom should I see,</div> +<div class="line">But Bookie Johnson hailing me;</div> +<div class="line">Johnson, the man who bilked the folks</div> +<div class="line">When Ethelrida won the Oaks.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_74" title="74"> </a> +<div class="line">He drew a wad from out his vest,</div> +<div class="line">“Here are a thousand of the best;</div> +<div class="line">Luck's turned a bit with me of late,</div> +<div class="line">And, as you see, I'm getting straight.”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">That's all. My luck was turning too;</div> +<div class="line">If you have nothing else to do,</div> +<div class="line">Run down some day to Lindisfaire,</div> +<div class="line">You'll find the old bay hunter there.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_75" title="75"> </a>A PARABLE</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">High-brow House</span> was furnished well</div> +<div class="line indent4">With many a goblet fair;</div> +<div class="line">So when they brought the Holy Grail,</div> +<div class="line indent4">There was never a space to spare.</div> +<div class="line">Simple Cottage was clear and clean,</div> +<div class="line indent4">With room to store at will;</div> +<div class="line">So there they laid the Holy Grail,</div> +<div class="line indent4">And there you'll find it still.</div> +</div> +</div> + + + +<h2><a class="pagenum" name="Page_76" title="76"> </a>FATE</h2> + + +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">I know</span> not how I know,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And yet I know.</div> +<div class="line">I do not plan to go,</div> +<div class="line indent8">And yet I go.</div> +<div class="line">There is some dim force propelling,</div> +<div class="line">Gently guiding and compelling,</div> +<div class="line">And a faint voice ever telling</div> +<div class="line indent8">“This is so.”</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">The path is rough and black—</div> +<div class="line indent8">Dark as night—</div> +<div class="line">And there lies a fairer track</div> +<div class="line indent8">In the light.</div> +<div class="line">Yet I may not shirk or shrink,</div> +<div class="line">For I feel the hands that link</div> +<div class="line">As they guide me on the brink</div> +<div class="line indent8">Of the Height.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_77" title="77"> </a> +<div class="line indent2">Bigots blame me in their wrath.</div> +<div class="line indent8">Let them blame!</div> +<div class="line indent2">Praise or blame, the fated path</div> +<div class="line indent8">Is the same.</div> +<div class="line">If I droop upon my mission,</div> +<div class="line">There is still that saving vision,</div> +<div class="line">Iridescent and Elysian,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Tipped in flame.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line indent2">It was granted me to stand</div> +<div class="line indent8">By my dead.</div> +<div class="line indent2">I have felt the vanished hand</div> +<div class="line indent8">On my head,</div> +<div class="line">On my brow the vanished lips,</div> +<div class="line">And I know that Death's eclipse</div> +<div class="line">Is a floating veil that slips,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Or is shed.</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">When I heard thy well-known voice,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Son of mine,</div> +<a class="pagenum" name="Page_78" title="78"> </a> +<div class="line">Should I silently rejoice,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Or incline</div> +<div class="line">To strike harder as a fighter,</div> +<div class="line">That the heavy might be lighter,</div> +<div class="line">And the gloomy might be brighter</div> +<div class="line indent8">At the sign?</div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Great Guide, I ask you still,</div> +<div class="line indent8">“Wherefore I?”</div> +<div class="line">But if it be thy will</div> +<div class="line indent8">That I try,</div> +<div class="line">Trace my pathway among men,</div> +<div class="line">Show me how to strike, and when,</div> +<div class="line">Take me to the fight—and then,</div> +<div class="line indent8">Oh, be nigh!</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 4em; font-style: italic;">Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury, England.</p> + + + + +<p class="page-break center" style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">BY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE</p> + +<p class="book">SONGS OF ACTION</p> + +<p class="center">SEVENTH IMPRESSION.</p> + +<div class="hanging-indent"> +<p><cite>Punch.</cite>—“Dr. Conan Doyle has well named his verse +‘Songs of Action.’ It pulsates with life and movement, +whether the scenes be laid on sea or land, on +ship or horseback.”</p> + +<p><cite>The Daily Telegraph.</cite>—“There is spirit and animation, +the rush and glow of young blood about his poems—always +a pulsating sense of life.”</p> + +<p><cite>The Yorkshire Post.</cite>—“Dr. Conan Doyle writes a good +song and a good ballad. He has the requisite amount +of pathos, and his humour is spontaneous.”</p> +</div> + + +<p class="book">SONGS OF THE ROAD</p> + +<div class="hanging-indent"> +<p><cite>The Morning Post.</cite>—“A troop of rollicking tales, of fervid +exhortations and straightforward arguments … sound +sentiments, hearty humour…. The creator of +Sherlock Holmes is able to construct vivid and pungent +verse.”</p> + +<p><cite>The Spectator.</cite>—“He can tell a good story as well in verse +as in prose: and the fetters of rhyme in no way weaken +the merits of the swift tale … humour as well as +spirit.”</p> + +<p><cite>The Observer.</cite>—“The strong vitality of the author pervades +his poetry. It is a tonic to meet his frank optimism.”</p> +</div> + + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 2em;">JOHN MURRAY, Albemarle Street, London, W.1</p> + + +<p class="page-break book">RECENT POETRY</p> + +<table id="recent-poetry"> +<tr> + <td colspan="2" class="center">By Rear-Admiral <span class="small-caps">Ronald A. Hopwood</span>, C.B.</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2">THE NEW NAVY, and other Poems</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE SECRET OF THE SHIPS</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE OLD WAY, and other Poems</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2" class="right"><i>4th Impression</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2" class="section">THE POETS IN PICARDY</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="indent">By E. de <span class="small-caps">Stein</span>. 2nd Impression.</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2">PSYCHOLOGIES</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="indent">By <span class="small-caps">Sir Ronald Ross, K.C.B.</span></td> + <td class="right">2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2">THE MAN WHO SAW, and other Poems</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="indent">By <span class="small-caps">Sir William Watson</span>.</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2">POEMS NEW AND OLD</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="indent">By <span class="small-caps">Sir Henry Newbolt</span>.</td> + <td class="right">7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2" class="section center">By Lieut. <span class="small-caps">Joseph Lee</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="indent">With Illustrations by the Author.</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net each</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>BALLADS OF BATTLE</td> +<td><i>4th Impression</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2">WORK-A-DAY WARRIORS</td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td colspan="2" class="section center">By <span class="small-caps">J. Griffyth Fairfax</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>MESOPOTAMIA</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE HORNS OF TAURUS</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>THE TEMPLE OF JANUS</td> + <td class="right">5<i>s.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2" class="section center">By <span class="small-caps">Ronald Campbell Macfie</span>, LL.D.</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>ODES AND OTHER POEMS</td> + <td class="right">5<i>s.</i> net</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>WAR</td> + <td class="right">3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center page-break-after" style="margin-top: 2em;">JOHN MURRAY, Albemarle Street, London, W.1</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Guards Came Through and Other Poems, by +Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH *** + +***** This file should be named 38071-h.htm or 38071-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/7/38071/ + +Produced by Gerard Arthus; paksenarrion; Jana Srna; Special +Collections, Florida State University; Lilly Library, +Indiana University; Brooklyn Public Library; Morris Library, +Southern Illinois University and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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