12 MARCH 1927, Page 24

Pieta

MEMORY OF C.O.]

FATHER, this substance to Thy own returns ; This that you set hi me I no* re.sign. _ Have I not known that what is mine is thine? The funeral pyre, the grave, the burial urns Have preached the lesson every mother learns Soon or late. That sculptured truth is mine Experience has made its writing shine Until the meaning in my bosom burns.

Now, for my consolation, grant at most That not in vain his ardent spirit took Flesh from my flesh, but gained a consciousness Nearer Thy Son, whom once a mother lost When Thou lookedst on Thyself, and temples Owl!' Knowing my loss, Thou wilt not give me less.