16 AUGUST 1935, Page 12

In Memory of A.E.

ESCAPE your fetters, lovely soul Whose boy's eyes glimpsed a world so fair That ever after in their depths Its magic lingered there.

Seer of visions, sage whose worth Voiced an old wisdom of the few, Under your gaze this wintry scene Put on its leaves anew.

Give back to earth the ear that strained Out to the beat of hidden wings, Sensing in imperfection still Shadow of perfect things.

Shake oft the last Of body's chains Shall not that spirit now be free Which Such immortal longings brought