1 MARCH 1919, Page 14

POETRY.

WINTER MORNING.

Tun stars faded out of the paling sky, Dropped through the waters; etill the Morning Star Grew hrigher and brighter, and as day was sigh A pure wind troubled the ruehes near and far.

No bird was yet awake, only the duck Homed to the little lake fed full with streams.

Strange and unreal how the morning broke On a still world, such as God saw in dreams.

The austere. still-life world was beautiful, Lit by one burning torch of purest flame.

Home from what hidden haunts, what secret pool?

Green-crested, emerald-winged, the wild duck came.

KATHARINE TYNAN.