Oft have I marked thee on the Calais quay,
Unloading ships of plum-and-apple jam,
Or beef, or, three times weekly, M. and V.,
And sometimes bacon (very rarely ham);
Or, where St. Quentin towers above the plain,
Have seen thee scan the awful scene and sigh,
Pick up a spade, then put it down again
And wipe a furtive tear-drop from thine eye.
And many a Sabbath have I seen thee stride
With stately step across the Merville Square,