24 SEPTEMBER 1904, Page 14

POETRY.

Where never burns the fierce white light of day, Where never laughter breaks their sadnesses; Only a sapphire dusk and sombre sky, And wandering mourning winds that blow across The everlasting sorrowing of the sea.

The sobbing cadences aspire and sink, And in their gliding poignant beauty speaks Anguish of all the ages. Shadowed forms, Figures of tragedy, who lift pale hands and cry Against the ruthless trampling of the years, Keen from the strings, until the listening Becomes a very rapier thrust of pain.