18 NOVEMBER 1949, Page 9
Tchaikovsky s Fifth Symphony
Heard on the Wireless
Heart on his sleeve, yes ; the egoistic hurt dissolved
In pity for the world's sorrow, The avid desire of the small hours Decked in the flame of morning sacrifice, The romantic agony turned to triumph In a valedictory peal of trumpets —All this echoes too bravely in the hollow dusk Of a dying world.
Yet the heart knows its habitation.
Votaries of death, We are borne by phantom tides of faith Towards the remembered shore of life.
I listen in the room And the imprisoning seas divide, The landscape of life encompasses me —Streets, the sky, people, a separate breath.
R. D. CHARQUES.