11 AUGUST 1928, Page 16

Injunction

WHEN this quick body Shall come to die

I would be planted Where few bodies lie.

Shorn of my dreams then, And ignorant still, Let me be buried In the breast of a hill.

Fling in the sweet mould,

Turn back the sod, And with indifference Fill me 0 God. A. E. COPPARD.