6 AUGUST 1932, Page 11

Wings

WHAT crystal words, what casket wrought Of lucid sound shall tell thy thought

Well as that Phoenix dark and bright, Those flashing wings, those birds in flight That skim, or dip aslant, or throw A dim or else a-fiery glow Upon the pools from which they rise, Thy lucid, crystal, speaking eyes ?

G. ROSTREVOR HAMILTON.