stab through the gloom--
Ah, good!--the thrust went home!--she founders--
flounders to her doom!--
Full speed ahead!--those damned quick-firing guns
--but let them bark--
What's that--the dynamos?--they've got us, men!
--Christ! in the dark!


NICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRO

(1912)

HE speaks as straight as his rifles shot,
As straight as a thrusting blade,
Waiting the deed that shall trouble the truce
His savage guns have made.

"You have dared the wrath of a dozen states,"
Was the challenge that he heard;
"We can die but once!" said the grim old King
As he gripped his mountain sword.

"For I paid in blood for the town I took,
The blood of my brave men slain,--
And if you covet the town I took
You must buy it with blood again!"

Stern old King of the stark, black hills,
Where the lean, fierce eagles breed,