16 SEPTEMBER 1922, Page 15

POETRY.

RHYMES FOR A CHILD.

Seven Shepherds.

SEVEN shepherds herd their sheep

Down seven sleepy stubble fields ; Seven angels stand and weep And say " How small the harvest-yields S " Seven greybeards prate of tillage Round the inglo of the inn ; Seven call this age an ill age, Seven wave their mugs and sing.

And all the signboards of our village Creak as they swing,

Whilst the seven stars above the village

Twinkle and spin.

FORD MADOX H17EFEER.