Written for the Albert Hall, British Legion Memorial
Gathering, 10 November 1945

For the Naval episode done by Whale Island

FAREWELL white ensign, battle-scarred and torn,

We know at last the magic of your spell,

Cast upon all true men whose eyes are cleansed

By salt-sprayed winds that blow where e'er they list

To blazon, so that all the world may see

The crosses of our sponsors and their creed.

St. George, St. Andrew and St. Patrick, they

Whose challenge is to follow in their steps,

Spreading the spirit of the Word by deeds,

In stainless armour, faithful to the end.

Farewell white ensign, yet you still may wield

A magic far more potent than we knew,

Compelling men to ponder upon those

Who cannot tear the ensign from their hearts

And face their daily tasks with a strange power,

Their ensign's gift, and called, among themselves,

The Spirit of the Service, which sustains

Their burdens for them, and perceiving which,

Come others, craving too its fellowship.

Sea salt is good, see that its savour lives,

Till the whole crew of the great Ship of State

An Island Race, knit in sea brotherhood,

Have learned the ensign's secret, and thereby

Have won the right to fly it and to pass

Into the New World's haven of their dreams,

There to be glad because they are at rest.