12 AUGUST 1949, Page 13

DERELICT STATION

SEE a sad gothic kingdom here decayed ; Between unpeopled platforms mounts the blind Tide of the grass where, trimly bedded, lay The sleek significance of sparking rails. Permanent darkness fills that shouting hall Which you, young stranger, daily echoed through To servitude, to freedom. Patient, now, The waiting-room where only silence waits Until a wasting roof or wall admits A falser dawn, a stage yet closer on The terminus of years, Oblivion.

P. A. T. O'DONNELL.