20 JULY 1918, Page 13

POETRY.

IMPERMANENCE.

THESE lovely things I saw in flower,

White-veiled and tall the woodland cherry trees, For carpet at their feet anemones, All lovely for an hour.

This gladsome sight I saw, the tryst Of boy and girl beneath the hawthorn boughs; To all eternity they pledged their vows, Yet these shall pass like mist.

This splendid scene I saw, the pride Of young brave men who marched with fife and drum, Certain, yet reckless of the pain to come; What lives when these have died?

The blossom drifts upon the sod, The lovers and the soldiers turn to dust, If beauty fade, love die and honour rust—?

0 fool, leave that to God.

W. M. LRrrs.