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[Page 7]

                     Here is no breeze of drowsy lands,
                     No breath of crowded towns and stale,
                     This is the wind that sweeps the mains
                     That leaps along the trackless trail:
                     And with its savor on my lips
                     The ancient joy comes back to me--
                     Of those who dared, in Viking ships
                     The Wind -- the wind of the open sea.

It blows from out the vasty skies,
                     Across the tumbling Deep's expanse,
                     It stings to deeds of high emprise,
                     It sings of glamour and romance;
                     Chill, clean it is -- my pulses leap--
                     Again to tread the decks and be
                     One with the rover of the Deep,
                     The Wind -- the wind of the open sea.

We shape a course south west, so as to take us out of the trade routes. About 9 -30 "lights out" sound, and we turn I feeling that at last we are on our way after many weary months of waiting and disappointment. Next day (Sunday 14th May) at sea. The wind is blowing a gale from the sou-west, and there is a lovely sea running. About three fourths of the troops are suffering very much from

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