"FULLNESS AFTER DEARTH" 



(September, 1921.) 



WHERE the fields were scorched and drab 

 during the drought the sweet green grass 

 is growing. Gone are those gaping fissures 

 in the slopes by the sea, those swarms of 

 flies about the dead sheep, and the crows 

 and jackdaws ever glutted with carrion. 

 Many summery flowers that should have 

 formed their seeds had no chance to bloom; 

 but now the rains have blessed them, and 

 everywhere their colours and scents have 

 been made from cold earth, sunshine, and 

 a dot of life. 



In mythology the goddess of spring 

 returned to the bleak woodlands and 

 barren fields, scattering life and song as she 

 wandered. Nowadays we do not believe in 

 pagan deities, but the idea survives, like 



poetry, for ever. That something has returned 

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