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A Treasury of War Poetry

by George Herbert Clarke

113 of 151 · Contents · Download EPUB

The Mine-Sweepers

Dawn off the Foreland—the young flood making
  Jumbled and short and steep—
Black in the hollows and bright where it’s breaking—
  Awkward water to sweep.
  “Mines reported in the fairway,
  Warn all traffic and detain.
Sent up Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden
Gain
.”

Noon off the Foreland—the first ebb making
  Lumpy and strong in the bight.
Boom after boom, and the golf-hut shaking
  And the jackdaws wild with fright.
  “Mines located in the fairway,
  Boats now working up the chain,
Sweepers—Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden
Gain
.”

Dusk off the Foreland—the last light going
  And the traffic crowding through,
And five damned trawlers with their syreens blowing
  Heading the whole review!
  “Sweep completed in the fairway.
  No more mines remain.
Sent back Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden
Gain
.”

Rudyard Kipling_

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