K.L.H.

DIED OF WOUNDS RECEIVED AT THE DARDANELLES.     Where stern grey busts of gods and heroes old     Frown down upon the corridors' chill stone,     On which the sunbeam's amber pale is thrown     From leaf-fringed windows, one of quiet mould     Gazed long at those white chronicles which told     Of honours that the stately School had known.     He read the names: and wondered if his own     Would ever grace the walls in letters bold.     He knew not that he for the School would gain     A greater honour with a greater price -     That, no long years of work, but bitter pain     And his rich life, he was to sacrifice -     Not in a University's grey peace,     But on the hilly sun-baked Chersonese.      H.M.S. "Manica,"         Dardanelles, 1915.