28 FEBRUARY 1931, Page 17

Parochialia

DEAR ancient "Parish Pussies,"

Black garmented, sedate, Attending parish fusses That other people hate, Taking the lowly seat, Wistful and incomplete.

Once they had comely faces And here and there a line Of lingering beauty traces A look almost divine, A glory in the work That other people shirk.

The church's tinted glass Jewels their sombreness, The sun-rays as they pass Vouchsafe a soft caress ; An instant golds and reds Weave haloes round their heads. MAY I. E. DOLPHIN.