22 JUNE 1895, Page 16

POETRY.

AT BRADFIELD.

[JUNE, 1895.] RINGED with the cool bright green of English trees,.

Beneath a. heaven of gracious English blue, They sang the numbers of Euripides ; Sang of old love and sorrow (old and new), Divine deliverance and defeated death, Of second birth to happy human breath,— Deep notes that pulsate the long centuries thror:- And as we listed the keen rippling Greek,

And while we watched the moving tale antique,

The sharp swifts round the sunlight whistling flew, And like the cadence of a chiming bell, Down from the highest ash-tree's quivering peak The soft shower of a throstle's music fell.

JOSEPH TRUMAN.