3 NOVEMBER 1917, Page 29



Time art the world's desired, the golden fleece, Of Time's adventurers faring down to Hell, Bat Helen's self dwelt not so far from peace Nor so beset since lofty Ilium fell.

Tyrants would pluck thee as men pluck a rose•

Carthage and Greece, the Vandal and the Cloth; Now more are added to thy many foes From East and West, aye, thou host suffered both.

Greece was enslaved, and Carthage is but dust, But thou art living, meagre all thy scars, To bear fresh wounds of rapine and of lust, Immortal victim of unnumbered wars.

Nor shalt thou cease until we cease to be Whose hearts are thine, belovkl Way. MOHAN DALTON.