WAR NOTES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 230, 8 March 1915, Page 8

WAR NOTES.

i j TO CEXERAT, JOFFRE. ' j Guardian of France! Whose sovran I might wo sec Dealing destruction on her foes that fain Would seek to crush lier down, but seek in vain : To overthrow the legions led by thee I prudent and wise, ana sound in strategy I Since Truth and Justice folljuv ui I thy train, r No homes can vanquish, and no ' force restrain, The powers divine that share thy victory. t Our hopes, our hearts are with thee and the light Of Liberty—a lialo well we knowOn thee its ever-living wreath shall throw When thou returu'st triumphant from the fight; While Right aniT Reason rule tlio world's acclaim Deathless shall he thy glory and thy fame. —Samuel Waddington, in the Westminster Oazette. A t'REEJ) FOR USE IX WAR TIME. The following is a translation, by a young lady in this city, of the creed, written by a French Academician (Henri Lavedan), for use during these hours and days of trial:—• "I believe in the courage oT our soldiers, and in the skill and devotion of our generals. ''l believe in the power of right in tlie crusade of civilisation, as a matter of course. _ "I believe in the value of suffering and in the merit of hope. ''l believe in quiet confidence, calm assurance, in daily work, in order, and in (watchful) vigilant charity. "I believe in the blood of heroes, in the fire of our artillery, in the (lame of the tapers, and in the beads of the rosary. "I believe in the consecrated vows of the" old and in the omnipotent innocence of the young. "I believe in women's prayers, in the sleepless heroism of our wives, in the pious calm of our mothers, in the purity of our cause, and in the immaculate glory of our flag. 'T believe in our glorious past, in our glorious present, and in our most glorious future. '•'l believe in our country's people, and i I believe in its dead. 'T believe in armed strength, and I I believe in hands clasped in supplication. ' I believe in ourselves, T believe in Cod. I believe, I believe." THE KXITTIXG SONG. Soldier lad, on the sodden ground, Sailor, lad on the seas, Can't you hear a little clickctty sound Stealing across on the breeze? _ It's the knitting needles singing their song, As they twine the khaki or blue, Thousands and thousands and thousands strong. Tommy and Jack, for you. Click—click—click How thev dart and flick, Flashing in the firelight to and fro! Now for pearl and plain Round and round again, Knitting love and luck in every row. The busy hands may he rough or white The fingers gouty or slim, The careful eyes may be youthfully bright, Or they may be weary and dim. Lady, and workgirl, young and old, They've all got one end in view, Knitting warm comforts against the cold, Tommy and Jack for you. Click—click—click! How they dart and flick. Flashing in the firelight to and fro! j Xow for pearl and plain, Round and round again, Knitting love and luck in every row. Knitting away in the midnight oil, Knitting when day begins; Lads, in the stress of toil Can't you hear the song of the pins? Clickettv. click—through tl\e wind and the foam, Tt's telling the boys over there That every "woolly" that comes from home, P.'-ings ;i smile and a hope and a prayer. Click—click—click! ITow they dart and flick. Flashing in the firelight to and fro! Xow for pearl and plain, j Round and round again, Knitting love and luck in every row.