Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/384

 384 LORD KITCHENER

HERE is wild water from the north;

The headlands darken in their foam

As with a threat of challenge stubborn earth

Booms at that far wild sea-line charging home.

The night shall stand upon the shifting sea

As yesternight stood there,

And hear the cry of waters through the air,

The iron voice of headlands start and rise—

The noise of winds for mastery

That screams to hear the thunder in those cries.

But now henceforth there shall be heard

From Brough of Bursay, Marwick Head,

And shadows of the distant coast,

Another voice bestirred—

Telling of something greatly lost

Somewhere below the tidal glooms, and dead.