5 JULY 1913, Page 27

POETRY.,

1ND rA.

GREEN, green birds 'gainst a blue, blue sky, The scream of the parrots as past they fly, The golden shimmer of hot, hot air, And an arid plain 'neath the sun's fierce glare.

Shadows lie sharp on the sun-baked land, Nothing but shadows and dry, bare sand.; A yellow dog goes slinking by,

And a blue rock pigeon wheels on high.

And the pilgrims pass in an endless row, Shuffling, mumbling, on they go ;

Bent with burdens, and years, and pain, -They straggle past in a motley train.

The jackals wail in a distant tope, "Wail and wail like a soul's lost hope.

And I close my eyes to the ceaseless him).

Of the.grinding aiee,and a native drum.:

' BETTY bnieball,