“I like your looks and I like your name:
My heart goes out to the old fleet’s fame,
And I’m pleased to find you so spry at the game
This grey November morning.
Your ships, tho’ I don’t half understand
Their build, are stouter and better mann’d
Than anything I ever had in command
Of a grey November morning.”
10.
Then Beatty spoke: “Sir! none of my crew,
All bravest of brave and truest of true,
Is thinking of me so much as of you
This grey November morning.”
And Nelson replied: “Well, thanks f’ your chat.
Forgive my intrusion! I take off my hat
And make you my bow ... we’ll leave it at that,
This grey November morning.”
“TO BURNS”
TOAST FOR THE GREENOCK CLUB DINNER, JANUARY, 1914.
To Burns! brave Scotia’s laurel’d son
Who drove his plough on Helicon—
Who with his Doric rhyme erewhile
Taught English bards to mend their style—
And by the humour of his pen
Fairly befool’d auld Nickie-ben ...
Blithe Robbie Burns! we love thee well
Because thou wert so like thysel’,
And in full cups with festive cheer
We toast thy fame from year to year.
POOR CHILD
On a mournful day
When my heart was lonely,
O’er and o’er my thought
Conned but one thing only,
Thinking how I lost
Wand’ring in the wild-wood
The companion self
Of my careless childhood.
How, poor child, it was
I shall ne’er discover,
But ’twas just when he
Grew to be thy lover,