30 APRIL 1954, Page 11

No Comparison

There can be no comparison Between your warmly breathing flesh And this blue granite stone Salty from the Channel tides.

Flesh and stone are disparate

Though shaped by elements in which they move: The stone licked smooth by the sea,

The body worn by love.

Both decay: the stone by imperceptible degrees, The body's rapid change more evident, But there is no comparison. The stone disintegrates, Love, while it cracks the bone, builds your monument.