POETRY.
R. W. P. P.
(Killed in the Trenches.)
("He was probably the greatest nagby three-quarter-leek of all tinse...—
Tkr Times.] Roue ..n is dead; and we shall watch no more
His swerving swallow-flight adown the field Amid eluded enemies who yield
Room for his swooping passage to the roar
Of multitudes enraptured who acclaim Their country's captain slipping towards his goal Instant of foot, deliberate of soul- " All's well with England.: Poulton's on his game."
Aye, all is well our orchards smiling fair; Our Oxford not a wilderness that weeps; Our boys tumultuously merry where Amongst old elms his comrade spirit keeps Vigil of love. All's well. And over there, Amid his peers, a happy warrior sleeps.
Assam OtrAvtar,,,