4 JANUARY 1952, Page 17

A Glass of Water

OUT of the pool of glass that is its foot and head, This fragile fountain in its crystal groves Upon a stem of light is breathed into the air, Describing heaven in a brimming ring, where doves Of dark and daylight flutter wings of sun and shade.

Eternal rainbows smoulder in its calm and clear Profundities ; their leaf-cut dark is lifted to Illumination's lips, that drink deep, but never heed One drop of the celestial cup, whose fountains slide In radiant infinities, where wastes of snow Blaze on a blue equator's gliding waves,

Melt into ice upon the pool's transparent leaves.

JAMES KIRKUP.