Sure never from that stone-like field
Sprang golden corn, nor from those chill
Grey granite trees was music wrought.
In all the wood
Even the tall poplar hung stone still.

It seemed an age, or time was none ...
Slowly the earth heaved out of sleep
And shivered, and the trees of stone
Bent and sighed in the gusty wind,
And rain swept as birds flocking sweep.
Far off the wood
Rolled the slow thunders on the wind.

From all the wood came no brave bird,
No song broke through the close-fall'n night,
Nor any sound from cowering herd:
Only a dog's long lonely howl
When from the window poured pale light.
And from the wood
The hoot came ghostly of the owl.

_Shane Leslie_

Shane Leslie, the only surviving son of Sir John Leslie, was born at
Swan Park, Monaghan, Ireland, in 1886 and was educated at Eton and the
University of Paris. He worked for a time among the Irish poor and was
deeply interested in the Celtic revival. During the greater part of a
year he lectured in the United States, marrying an American, Marjorie
Ide.

Leslie has been editor of _The Dublin Review_ since 1916. He is the
author of several volumes on Irish political matters as well as _The
End of a Chapter_ and _Verses in Peace and War_.

FLEET STREET

I never see the newsboys run
Amid the whirling street,
With swift untiring feet,
To cry the latest venture done,
But I expect one day to hear
Them cry the crack of doom
And risings from the tomb,
With great Archangel Michael near;
And see them running from the Fleet
As messengers of God,
With Heaven's tidings shod
About their brave unwearied feet.

THE PATER OF THE CANNON

Father of the thunder,
Flinger of the flame,
Searing stars asunder,
_Hallowed be Thy Name!_

By the sweet-sung quiring
Sister bullets hum,
By our fiercest firing,
_May Thy Kingdom come!_

By Thy strong apostle
Of the Maxim gun,
By his pentecostal
Flame, _Thy Will be done!_

Give us, Lord, good feeding
To Thy battles sped--
Flesh, white grained and bleeding,
_Give for daily bread!_

_Frances Cornford_

The daughter of Francis Darwin, third son of Charles Darwin, Mrs.
Frances Macdonald Cornford, whose husband is a Fellow and Lecturer of
Trinity College, was