29 APRIL 1955, Page 14

Meteor Stone .

Night's flood is tar.

Through its arching gulf of black, Without a moon, without a star, Floats a cloud, made out of dark : But in that chaos is the thing I seek.

Blue meteor stone To whet a knife now jagged and blunt Or rub a needle out of bone To tap a hidden ruby jet In sudden spurt, like spark glowing from flint.

Body's red glass (Tube and retort) concocts a rich Drug in its deepCst-buried place : He who mines it out may catch A whole long sunrise in one crucial flash.

That glittering ore, More like a wine than metal, runs Its melted fire into a shower Swift as a bird, light as a dance, Across a sky where all the birds are suns.

How may delight All gold and jewel, as this is, be Changed from its yellow to make plain white?

And in its spectrum range all three :