15 APRIL 1938, Page 12

SIBYL.

SHE watches by the echoing shore, Shells fill her lap and streams of fire Who summons from the ocean's floor The shapes of thunder and desire. •

Like solitude her endless sighs At evening stir the grots and caves, Love freezes in her marble eyes And years caress her lips like waves.

Swords, pillars and the infinite dove Of silence tremble on her palm ! And all our follies cannot move Her marvellous titanic calm.

And as each century flows past She nods and with her snowing hand

• Stills our long prairies and at last With her illusions veils the land. FREDERIC' FROKOSc