To Flight-Lieutenant Robinson, V.C.

You with the hawk's eyes and the nerves of steel,         How was it with you when the hurried word     Roused you and sent you swiftly forth to deal         A blow for justice? Sure your pulses stirred,     And all your being leapt to meet the call         Which bade you strike nor spare         Where poised in air     Murder and ravening flame were hid intent to fall.     Alone upon your fearful task you flew,         Where in the vault of heaven the high stars swing,     Alone and upward, lost to mortal view,         Winding about the assassin craft a ring     Of fateful motion, till at last you sped         Through the far tracts of gloom         The bolt of doom,     Shattering the dastard foe to earth with all his dead.     For this we thank you, and we bid you know         That henceforth in the air, by day or night,     A myriad hopes of ours, where'er you go,         Rise as companions of your soaring flight;     And well we know that when there comes the need         A host of men like you,         As staunch, as true,     Will rush to prove the daring of the island breed.