_To D. V. B._

They watch us leaving harbour for the greatest game of all, And wonder if we're coming back across the greedy sea; They never know the fighting thrill or high adventure's call-- I rather think the women folk are better men than we. But I suspect they say of us as out to sea we go, In all our panoply of pride from Orkney to the Nore: "It keeps them quiet, we suppose--they like the work, we know-- And soon perhaps they'll tire and play some safer game than War."

CONTENTS.