12 SEPTEMBER 1930, Page 11

Entreaty Unanswered

How far have you wandered In three years of death,

Beyond the grave's gateway And last roadsign of breath ?

It seems, by comparing, That those whom you left, Have stood still, bewildered, Frozen, bereft !

You may not regret this ; Maybe you forget The Earth stiff and static Where the eagles fret.

Blood, that sleep-potion ; And the indolent brain, The leaden equipment Of us who remain.

Such paraphernalia And gross weight you dropped At our hearts-side that moment When your breathing stopped.

O Ganymede, vanished,

In Mind to carouse,

Have you no message

For our clod-rooted house ?

Rimini:1 Cannes.