12 DECEMBER 1947, Page 14

THE MESSAGE

Greek messenger, striding Sun, Rise in my heart, whose morning Knows what the night has done In spite of your western warning Deliver your lines as if You were truly short of breath, Release the public grief Upon my private death ; The audience knows the Curse, The Plot, and why you come, Connoisseurs of the verse That drives me to my doom: Rise in my breaking heart That as I go to die I may take my proper part In the play, the poetry.

PATRIC DICICINSON.