No sort of further use?

Beware! I gather he might clasp his TINO
Only too warmly to his heaving chest,
Saying, "O how reward such merits? _We_ know!
Thou shalt command an Army in the West!
Yes, thou shalt bear upon the British Front
The pick of all the brunt."

Frankly, if I were you, I wouldn't chance it.
Fighting has never really been your forte;
Witness Larissa, and your rapid transit,
Chivied by slow foot-sloggers of the Porte;
Far better make for Denmark o'er the foam;
There is no place like home.

Try some ancestral palace, well-appointed;
For choice the one where _Hamlet_ nursed his spite,
Who found the times had grown a bit disjointed
And he was not the man to put 'em right;
And there consult on that enchanted shore
The ghosts of Elsinore.

O.S.

* * * * *


=LESSONS OF THE WAR.=