27 JULY 1929, Page 11

Poetry

Lanes

Ti.: lanes I love are winding lanes Threading the countryside like veins Whose dancing youtl►ful sap can run Down quickening hedges in the sun, Or like the whorls within a shell, Or pleasures unforgettable When music threads a twisting lane To the core of joy and back again ; They seem Earth's brain which convolutes In windings where we sense her thoughts, The songs of Pan, the songs that most Elude us—nearly, caught, then lost ; Such songs as now I chase and miss In such a fresh green lane as this.

CAsifiLLA DOYLE.