for some nice new vegetables.

* * * * *

A PLACE OF ARMS.

[Inscribed by a humble member of the Inner Temple to the
Benchers of his Inn.]

I knew a garden green and fair,
Flanking our London river's tide,
And you would think, to breathe its air
And roam its virgin lawns beside,
All shimmering in their velvet fleece,
"Nothing can hurt this haunt of Peace."

No trespass marred that close retreat;
Privileged were the few that went
Pacing its walks with measured beat
On legal contemplation bent;
And Inner Templars used to say:
"How well our garden looks today!"

But That which changes all has changed
This guarded pleasaunce, green and fair,
And soldier-ranks therein have ranged
And trod its beauty hard and bare,
Have tramped and tramped its fretted floor
Learning the discipline of War.