2 MARCH 1945, Page 9

BY CRUMMOCK WATER

Dark on Crummock Water scarred and massive Melbreak ponders ; plumbs with gaze impassive Pools that hold no image but himself,

Wrinkle on snarling wrinkle, shelf on shelf, Flattered to softness in the pleasing mirror.

And I, in a whim of solitude, fall to thinking Of ranges at swing of a hundred levels linking So many beads, so many shivers of light, Sunk amid caverns of rock, secure from sight As eyes conjectured in a lonely jungle: Till the moon shall ride with her watchful train attendant And thread them through at a glance—a twinkling pendant Where black-bright tarn and wide-eyed violet lake In open, single, serene conspiracy make A pattern of stars, a new-found constellation.

G. ROSTICEVOR HAMILTON.