16 FEBRUARY 1934, Page 19

Heaven

HEAVEN, through the storm-rent skies of time revealing Visions designed by man's death-fearing mind To hallow his carnal heritage with healing.

Heaven, the last word Upon their lips for whom No Morning star shall burn, beyond that whisper' Going to look for angels in the gloom.

Heaven, the reward of racked renunciation, When in the body's broken wayside shrine The spirit in its ultimate aspiration Shares the world-sacrifice and dies divine.

- SIEGFRIED '3ASSOON.