The morning ardour of your face
Was like a summer rose;
One sooty smudge but seemed to grace
The challenge of your nose;
The gaudy thing that hid your hair
Performed its office with an air.

There is a time for stately tire,
For frills and furbelows,
When dainty humours should inspire
Such vanities as those;
So for stern hours of high intent
Behoves a fit habiliment.

Did not those gallants win our pride
And heroes stand revealed,
Who flung their fineries aside
For fashions of the field?
I, who have known campaigning too,
Salute a kindred soul in you.

* * * * *

THE OVERLAND ROUTE.

"H.M.S. New Zealand, with Admiral Jellicoe on board,
arrived at Bombay on March 14, and left for Delhi on
the 15th."--_Scots Paper_.