21 NOVEMBER 1947, Page 13

THE ROMAN GHOSTS

Here when the villa stood, Here in the court, in the glowing autumn weather,

Young Lucius knelt and viewed his latest gifts from Rome—

Some apple-trees, a grateful rose, a coop of pheasants.

Then to the bird with her brood In the eaves " Take hence my thanks," he said, " for these her To my dear cousin ; but were they here together— [presents The Phasian birds, the flower of Rhodes, Abella's trees, And she to see them grow—my house would be my home.

SO bring her, swallow, When you return next year, in your sails an Italian breeze.'

And here to me today, While the sheep graze idly over the mounds of the villa,

Appear those Roman ghosts, aflame in the autumn's flame—

Crab-apples red in the hedge, the scarlet fruits of the brier, And an old cock-pheasant at play ; And I hear them speak to the softly chattering bird on the wire, As she charts her course and musters her flotilla, " Tell her our life goes on, tell her the land is fair, Tell her we wait her still, although she never came.

But hurry, swallow ; Bring back the spring again, bring back the Italian air."

JOHN SAUNDERS.