POEMS OLD AND NEW

Why did they bring me here to make me

Not quite bad and not quite good.
Why, unless They're wicked, do They want, in spite,

to take me

Back to Their wet, wild wood ?

Now, every night I shall see the windows shin-
ing,

The gold lamp's glow, and the fire's red gleam,
While the best of us are twining twigs and the rest

of us are whining
In the hollow by the stream.
Black and chill are Their nights on the wold

And They live so long and They feel no pain : 10
I shall grow up, but never grow old,
I shall always, always be very cold,
I shall never come back again !

CHARLOTTE MEW

STUPIDITY STREET

I SAW with open eyes
Singing birds sweet
Sold in the shops
For the people to eat,
Sold in the shops of
Stupidity Street.

I saw in vision 20
The worm in the wheat,
And in the shops nothing
For people to eat;
Nothing for sale in
Stupidity Street.
RALPH HODGSON
144