ON the hill of Hemimura, looking out across the sea
O'er the docks of Yokosuka and the warships sailing free 'Midst the Shinto pennons streaming, Lies Will Adams, still a-dreaming Of the busy Port o' London and the Kentish wood and lea. And the praying-wheels a-turning To the name of William Adams, Kentish sailorman and god.
So he drowses till the screaming of the sirens once again Calls him back to where beneath him, like mailed barons of the main, Ride the warships ; while the rattle Of Dal Nippon's seaward battle Rings and mingles through his dreaming like a distant song's refrain : For whenas the great grey battleships roll down upon the foe, Or when Togo's lean torpedo-boats charge shoreward through the snow, When the giant shells are crashing And the league-long searchlights flashing, Then Will Adams sees the triumph of his toil of long ago.
J. H. KNIGHT-ADKIN.
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