From Snotty to Sub

by Wolston B. C. W. Forester

When our tattered smokes forerun,

Ashen 'neath a silvered sun;

When the curtain of the haze

Shuts upon our helpless ways—

Hear the Channel Fleet at sea;

Libera nos Dominie.

. . . . . .

When the treble thickness spread

Swallows up our next ahead;

When her siren's frightened whine