SEARCHLIGHTS ON THE MERSEY.
A long lean bar of silver spans
The ebon-rippled water-way,
And like a lost moon's errant ray
Strikes on the passing caravans—
Ghost-ships that from the desert seas
Loom silent through the steady beams,
Pale phantoms of elusive dreams
Cargoed with ancient memories.
Through the long night across the cool
Black waters to their shrouded berth,
Bearing the treasures of the earth,
Glide the fair ships to Liverpool.
"Londoner" in The Evening News:—
"Long live King Leopold, a faithful prince if ever there was one, as loyal to his brave Belgians as they, gallant souls that they are, are loyal to him. Does he, I wonder, ever take a look at his family pedigree?"
Because, if so, he would discover that his name was really Albert.
