4 OCTOBER 1924, Page 10

POETRY.

THE POOL

I mstow a deep and lonely pool—that's where The great Kingfisher makes his sudden splash : He has so many jewels in his plumes That all we see is one blue lightning flash !

But whether that fine bird comes there or no,

There I'll be found before the coming night— Beside that dark, deep pool, on whose calm breast

Sleep a young family of pools of light.

And near my pool an ancient abbey stands, Where I, when lying in the longest grass, Can see the moonlight, tender, soft and fair, Clasped to the rugged breast of that black nurse.

W. H. DAVIES.