POETRY.

"CONVALESCENCE "—RYE : MIDSUMMER, 1915.

PEACE on the hill beneath the blue of June

Lying the day long stretched upon the dune, Fanned by a gentle breeze, warmed by a summer sun, Cradled in sumptuous couch of sand

Lazy limbs in a languorous land

With nothing but rest and play till the day is done!

Peace in the wine-dark sea lapping the shore, Where fishers garner in their glitt'ring store: Silence broken by nought but the shriek of the gull—. While the pipit poised in a cloudless sky Sings of his love to his mate hard-by, Pouring a sonnet of praise from a heart that is full.

Landward the meadows flaunt their cloth of gold E'er Autumn teach them that the world grows old, Breathing spices more precious than Araby's balm Yonder a herd of new-shorn sheep,

Yonder the town that has died in its sleep, Died with a smile on its lips and never a qualm.

Is this a dream while all a world's at war,

Vision divine to heal the festering sore, Lull the weary body, calm the care-stricken heart P Over the sea the guns may boom

Hurling the myriad hosts to doom—

Here at least is refuge where strife has no part. Wake from the spell that hollows magic Rye!

Wake ! For 'tie time to live—and time to die.

Rest will come once again and the life that is joy.

Rest when strenuous warfare's done, Silence after the roar of the gun, Lordly ease with the victory won, Gentle breeze and a summer sun, Peace with the song of a lark and the laugh of a boy.

VICTOR MALLET.