31 MAY 1919, Page 14

POETRY.

THE CALL.

AT night when I lie fast asleep A sudden voice cries at my ear,

Quick—" Mother ! Mother ! " and I leap Out of my dreams and wild with fear.

Whether 'Ds you, dear Heart's Delight, Sleeping some few small rooms away,

Calls to me in the lonely night, I cannot think, I cannot say.

Or if it be a boy's quick call From East or West in some sore need.

Dear angels, guard the outer wall Lest that my love have little speed.

Or if the dead have need of me,

The piteous babes that lie alone, That only oped an eye to see Into the world ere they were flown.

I know not : only this I know, The quick call would have power as wake

Me in the grave and bid me go

Running for some scared darling's sake.

KATHARINE TY/CA/Q.