18 SEPTEMBER 1936, Page 20

February, 1936

INFIRM and grey

This leaden-hearted day _ Drags its lank hours, wishing itself away.

Grey as the skin Of long-imprisoned men The sky, and holds a poisoned thought within : Whether to die, Or live beneath fear'S eye- Ikavily hangs the sentence of this Sky.

The unshed tears - - Of frost on boughs and briers Gathering, wait discharge like our swain fears.

Servant and host Of this fog-bitter frost,

A carrion-crow flaps, shadoivirig the lost.

Now to the fire.

From killing fells we bear This new-born lamb, our premature desire.

We caiulot meet Our children's mirth; last night We dreakt their brood upon the darkening street.

Stay away, Spring !

For Death is on the wing To blast our seed and poison everY thing.-

C. DAY LEWIS.