Bad Luck, she is never a lady

But the commonest wench on the street,
Shuffling, shabby and shady,

Shameless to pass or meet.

Walk with her once-it's a weakness!

Talk to her twice-it's a crime!

Thrust her away when she gives you “good day"
And the besom won't board you next time.
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!

What is Your Ladyship's mood?
If I've no care for Fortune,
My Fortune is bound to be good!

Good Luck she is never a lady
But the cursedest quean alive!
Tricksey, wincing and jady,
Kittle to lead or drive.

Greet her-she's hailing a stranger!

Meet her-she's busking to leave.

Let her alone for a shrew to the bone,
And the hussy comes plucking your sleeve!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!

I'll neither follow nor flee.

If I don't run after Fortune
Fortune must run after me!

"BY THE HOOF OF THE WILD GOAT”

BY THE Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed
From the cliff where she lay in the Sun

Fell the Stone

To the Tarn where the daylight is lost,
So she fell from the light of the Sun
And alone!

Now the fall was ordained from the first With the Goat and the Cliff and the Tarn, But the Stone

Knows only her life is accursed

As she sinks from the light of the Sun
And alone!

Oh Thou Who has builded the World,
Oh Thou Who has lighted the Sun,
Oh Thou Who has darkened the Tarn,
Judge Thou

The sin of the Stone that was hurled
By the goat from the light of the Sun,
As she sinks in the mire of the Tarn,
Even now-even now-even now!

SONG OF THE RED WAR-BOAT

(A. D. 683)

SHOVE off from the wharf-edge! Steady! Watch for a smooth! Give way!

If she feels the lop already

She'll stand on her head in the bay.
It's ebb-it's dusk—it's blowing
The shoals are a mile of white,
But (snatch her along!) we're going
To find our master to-night.

For we hold that in all disaster
Of shipwreck, storm, or sword,
A Man must stand by his Master
When once he has pledged his word.

Raging seas have we rowed in
But we seldom saw them thus,
Our master is angry with Odin-
Odin is angry with us!
Heavy odds have we taken,
But never before such odds.

The Gods know they are forsaken,
We must risk the wrath of the Gods!

Over the crest she flies from,
Into its hollow she drops,
Cringes and clears her eyes from
The wind-torn breaker-tops,
Ere out on the shrieking shoulder
Of a hill-high surge she drives.
Meet her! Meet her and hold her!
Pull for your scoundrel lives!

The thunders bellow and clamour
The harm that they mean to do!
There goes Thor's own Hammer
Cracking the dark in two!

Close! But the blow has missed her,
Here comes the wind of the blow!
Row or the squall 'll twist her
Broadside on to it!-Row!

Heark 'ee, Thor of the Thunder!
We are not here for a jest―
For wager, warfare, or plunder,
Or to put your power to test.
This work is none of our wishing—

We would house at home if we might—
But our master is wrecked out fishing.
We go to find him to-night.

For we hold that in all disaster-
As the Gods Themselves have said-
A Man must stand by his Master
Till one of the two is dead.

That is our way of thinking,
Now you can do as you will,

While we try to save her from sinking,
And hold her head to it still.

Bale her and keep her moving,

Or she'll break her back in the trough.
Who said the weather's improving,
Or the swells are taking off?

Sodden, and chafed and aching,
Gone in the loins and knees-
No matter the day is breaking,
And there's far less weight to the seas!
Up mast, and finish baling-

In oars, and out with the mead-
The rest will be two-reef sailing.
That was a night indeed!

But we hold that in all disaster
(And faith, we have found it true!)
If only you stand by your Master,
The Gods will stand by you!

MINE SWEEPERS

1914-18

AWN off the Foreland-the young flood making Jumbled and short and steep

ack in the hollows and bright where it's breaking

Awkward water to sweep.

"Mines reported in the fairway,

"Warn all traffic and detain.

"Sent up Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden Gain."

Noon off the Foreland-the first ebb making

Lumpy and strong in the bight.

Boom after boom, and the golf-hut shaking
And the jackdaws wild with fright!
"Mines located in the fairway,

"Boats now working up the chain,

"Sweepers-Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden

Gain."

Dusk off the Foreland-the last light going

And the traffic crowding through,

And five damned trawlers with their syreens blowing
Heading the whole review!

"Sweep completed in the fairway.

"No more mines remain.

"'Sent back Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden Gain."

MORNING SONG IN THE JUNGLE

ONE moment past our bodies cast

No shadow on the plain;

Now clear and black they stride our track,
And we run home again.

In morning hush, each rock and bush
Stands hard, and high, and raw:
Then give the Call: "Good rest to all
That keep the Jungle Law!"