24 APRIL 1926, Page 17

POETRY

APRIL RAIN

The sweet breast of the brooding day Was hinting through the goWn of Spring, And giant elms threw care away For now had come the Quickening.

Ah ! Days of Summer-haunted dells, And lonesome aisles, built by the trees, The sacred blue of scented bells, The labour and the hum of bees : They woo thee far from City's frown, They -catch thee with a sudden pain Mast thou• not, too, known Sorrow's CroWn1 Alr t Sweet ! 'Twits but the April Rain.

gDMITNII ADElLIRIMIAM.