18 MARCH 1916, Page 15

POETRY.

MEMORIAL VERSES.

D. B.

(Killed in action September 29th, 1915.) His heart was like a day of early spring, Without a cloud, without a ruinous shower He faced the onset of the threatening hour As simply as a swallow on the wing, That on some morning when the harvest's done, And autumn its first wintriness reveals, About the horses' heads swoops low, and wheels With liquid glide towards the golden sun.

Thus with clear eyes and laughing lips he wont, Rejoicing in the soldier's sacrament ; Swift to salute and ready to obey, Should the Great Captain beckon, he was nigh, Shriven and houselled, happy, when the high

Shrill trumpets called him on St. Michael's Day. Z.