Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/206

 206

What guff are you giving us, Captain? We are able to tell, we hope,

A dozen ghosts, when we see them, apart from a periscope.

Come, come, get down to business! For time is money, you know,

And you must make up in both to us for having been so slow.

Better tell this story of yours to the submarines, for we

Know there was no such wreck, and none of your spookery.

Oh, kind kin of our murderers, take us back when you sail away;

Our own kin have forgotten us. O Captain, do not stay!

But hasten, Captain, hasten: The wreck that lies under the sea

Shall be ever the home for us this land can never be. William Dean Howells

RETREAT