Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/212

 186 J. -E. MIDDLETON

Here to the battle-front he came.

See, he smiles in his gallant way ! Ghostly ships in a ghostly game,

Roaring guns on a ghostly day !

There in his white silk smalls he stands,

(Here's to Nelson, with three times three !) Coming out of the misty lands

Far, far over the misty sea. Now the Foe is a crippled wreck,

Limping out of the deadly fight. Smiling yond on the quarterdeck

Stands the Spirit, all silver-bright.

— J. E. Middleton.

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