Welsh Journals

For Alun •" Nl come walking the hills with you in flesh or ghost, surely I will." From his last letter to me, dated February 7th, 1944. Now his sweet singing spirit leaves the orange grove: The blood-hibiscus and dust-wheeling suns Burn through tranced leaves above earth-resting body Of Alun, son of the grey Valleys, By whose hearths' ash we weep him In his own land. Slowly returning on our tidal tears, The homing spirit smiles through mountain rain, Throws war's dirt from him In the barren lake; Becomes complete. The dreaming poet, Lover and soldier On rock begins promised pilgrimage, For he said, surely he would come again In flesh or ghost beside me on the hill. Lieut. Alun Lewis, Welsh poet, died by an accident in India, March 5th, 1944, whilst serving with the South Wales Borderers. BRENDA CHAMBERLAIN. BRENDA CHAMBERLAIN. Sonnet (ON THE DEATH OF ALUN LEWIS). HE was astonished by the abundance of gold Light. In the street a beggar stretched her hand, Dying. Then the shudder ran through him. Once he had planned To out-distance the sun in a chariot. But how might he hold That instant, those uncurbed horses, and mix with the mould Her liquid shadow near the lotus and timeless sand ? A slighter man would have noticed the ripples expand From the stark, regenerate symbol. But to him that cold Figure was real. Ah yes, he died in the green Tree. What was it, then, pierced him, keen as a thorn, And left him articulate, humble, unable to scorn A single soul found on Earth ? 0, had he seen In a flash, all India laid like Antony's queen, Or seen the highest, for which alone we are born? VERNON WATKINS.