19 JANUARY 1929, Page 13

Poetry

The Return

OPEN the front door and look down the street. Mary is coming home again to-night.

In the low window swing the yellow light That it may comfort her with welcome sweet. Ask her no question—bind her bleeding feet Prop her gold head and heal her broken flight With patienesikiice and the shining sight. Of the board waiting by the ancient seat.

Take her cold fingers—lift her tired head And set the cup where once your kiss held fast ; -Lay -in-her hands and break for her the bread 'And let this sacrament absolve the past ; Nor ask of her a gesture she riiitY dreabl.71L- She can but give that which She takes at last.

V.