21 APRIL 1961, Page 24

Spring

Over the tingling seas it came planting on a whale's blunt head daffodils of the early year.

Not decoration but illumination.

Venus, risen lady, humming in the salt logs, incubating flame.

But spring—for us? A dirty word, no less. Swallows invidious.

As if it were not splendid

to welcome this far-travelled untidy vulgar gossip, throwing the windows of our coasts wide open.

LAIN CRICHTON SMITH