WAR NOTES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 153, 4 December 1914, Page 3

WAR NOTES.

GREY WOLVES GREY. (From the Bulletin). The Russian march is soft iind slow, Through dust and heat, or slush and snow, When the Russian skies hang grey and low; T» the frontiers far where the Russians g°; And they inarch to-night and they march to-day > Like the grey wolvea grey, the grey wolves grey. < .Nor song nor sound their track reveals, Save the ceaseless "elock" of the waggon wheels, But a rift in the midst shows a glint of sun On the long, dark shape of a toiling gun; And they strain by night and drag by day To a distant goal, like the grey wolves grey.

As the horses toil at the end of trains And the ends of roads on the Blacksoil Plains, And Ivan digs in the frozen clay, And he rolls the logs a Vied to lay For a gun that's five hundred miles

away, But as sure to come as the grey wolves grey.

He is marching on with a purpose grand, For brother Slav in another land; Whose tongue, perchance, he can not

understand.— But he knows .the cry from the far

away, And he smells the blood like the grey wolves grey. And Ivan's wife in her den at home, . While hunger looms and his lean wolves

comerWith her grey-black > bread like the Darling mud, And her tea-bricks bound with the bullock's blood — She shields her cubs by night and day Like the crouching sluts of the grey wolves grey.

M And I march with Ivan wher'er he be, With the foreign bfood that is strong in me, And the love and the hate that is fari-

tasy, Like the ghost of a father's memory. With the blood that is strange to us today, As the strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey. Grey wolves, Grey Wolves— The strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey. —Henry Lawson