LORD KITCHENER.
[TO THE EDITOR OP THE EPROTATOIL,
SIB,—Could you find room for these verses, which appeared in the Calgary Albertan from the pen of Robert J. C. Stead ? I believe you will endorse the opinion of a leading Canadian journalist that they are among the finest of the tributes that have appeared.—I am, Sir, he., W. H. GRIMM= Tuomea. 72 Spadina Road, Toronto, Canada, June 24th.
KITCHM,TER OF KHARTOUM
Weep, waves of England Nobler clay Was ne'er to nobler grave consigned ; The wild waves weep with us to-day Who mourn a nation's master mind.
We hoped an honoured age for him, And ashes laid with England's great ; And rapturous music, and the dim Deep hush that veils our Tomb of State But this is better. Let him sleep Where sleep the men who made us free, For England's heart is in the deep, And England's glory is the sea.
One only vow above his bier, One only oath beside his bed : We swear our flag shall shield him here Until the sea gives up its dead !
Leap, waves of England I Boastful be, And fling defiance in the blast, For Earth is envious of the Sea Which shelters England's dead at last."
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