10 APRIL 1959, Page 36

The Butcher Bird

At dawn beneath the risen sun The lizard scuttles to a stone, The wren rings in the hazelwood, The butterfly assaults the bud And the great bee drones till noon;

When none but little insects hum, The bud lies all alone, The hazelwood is dumb, dumb, And empty, the stone.

Still, on a briar, the Red-Backed Shrike Stands sentinel above the corn.

His mask is black. His butcher-beak Was made to break and spike and hook His victim on a thorn.

And look ! below the burning sky, Crucified on a tree : The lizard and the butterfly,

The wren and the bee.

PAUL DEH$