5 JUNE 1926, Page 17

BARRIERS

THE strange world of the flitting birds I am afraid to know.

The woodlands, with their leafy words, The rustlings to and fro, The furry inmates, swift and wise, All evade my ears, my eyes.

But though I hear not, see nOt, still They grow more intimate.

They must surrender to my will, • And teach me, soon or late RICHARD CHURCH.