14 MAY 1942, Page 11

NIGHT-FIGHTER PILOTS

THOSE who fly out on polished wings, Across the sightless gaps of space, Who see the way the cosmos swings As stars turn in their circled place.

They summon lightning at their will Above the clouds that spread below ; Armoured and gunned with strength to kill As stripling gods in speed they go.

These should be those who cannot die, Who climb the space which no birds know, And sweep immortal through the sky- Ah me, if it were only so!

But these, like others, draw their breath, And when the fighters sweep the btu: One falls, a comet, to his death I find it was some lad I knew.

CLIFFORD ALLEN.