d be countless as the stars,
And all the living bitter as the sea.

I looked again, or dreamed I looked, and saw
The stars again and all their peace again.
The moving mist had gone, and shining still
The moon went high and pale above the hill.
Not now those lights were trembling in the vast
Ways of the nervy heaven, nor trembled earth:
Profound and calm they gazed as the soft-shod hours passed.
And with less fear (not with less awe,
Remembering, England, all the blood and pain),
How look, I cried, ye stern and solitary stars
On these disastrous wars!

JOHN FREEMAN

COMMANDEERED

Last year he drew the harvest home
Along the winding upland lane;
The children twisted marigolds
And clover flowers, to deck his mane.
Last year--he drew the harvest home!

To-day--with puzzled, patient face,
With ears a-droop, and weary feet,
He marches to the sound of drums,
And draws the gun along the street.
To-day--he draws the guns of war!

L. G. MOBERLY

THE MAN WHO KEEPS HIS HEAD

There's a man who fights for England, and he'll keep her still atop,
He will guard her from dishonour in the market and the shop,
He will save her homes from terror on the fields of Daily Bread,
He's the man who sticks to business, he's the man who keeps his
head.

Let the foe who strikes at England hear her wheels of commerce turn,
Let the ships that war with England see her factory furnace burn;
For the foe most fears the cannon, and his heart most quails with
dread
When behind the man in khaki is the man who keeps his head.

Brand him traitor and assassin who with miser's coward mood
Has his gold locked up in secret and his larders stored with food,
Who has cast adrift his workers, who lies sweating in his bed,
And who snarls to hear the laughter of the man who keeps his head.

Let the poor man teach the rich man, for the poor man's constant
strife
Is from day to day to seek work, day by day to war with life,
And the poor man's home hangs ever by a frail and brittle thread,
And the poor man's often hungry, but the poor man keeps his head.

When the ships come back from slaughter, and the troops march home
from war;
When the havoc