3 SEPTEMBER 1921, Page 15



How can I toll it 1 I saw a thing That I did not find strange In my visioning.

A flawless tall mirror, Glass dim and green And a tall, dim figure There was between Pale, so pale her face, As veils of thin water ; And her eyes water-pale, And the moonlight on her ; And she was dying, dying : She combed her long hair, And the crimson blood ran In the fine gold there.

She was dying. dying . .

In bar perfect eye No terror lurked ; nor pity That she should so die.