"All the birds of the air fell a-sighin' and a-sobbin'
When they heard of the death of poor Cock Robin,"
as No. 1 platoon of A Company used to sing. Ah, well.
Evoe.
A COUNTRY NIGHT PIECE.
The darkness my footsteps were swathed in
Is drenched with a luminous spray;
For a chain's length the kerbstone is bathed in
A spindrift of silvery grey;
By the roadside is mistily glimmering
A wall phosphorescent with pearls,
All glancing and dancing and shimmering
Like star-dust that swirls.
Where the high-road dips down to the dingle,
A coppice in arabesque gleams
Whose traceries melt and commingle,
Like ghost trees in moon-fretted streams,
As the tremulous glamour sweeps o'er it
And skirts the inscrutable sky;
Then, Fairyland flitting before it,
The car flashes by.
Sport in Ireland.
"In a collision between his vehicle and a tramcar yesterday a passenger was injured and removed to hospital.
For other Sporting News see Page 6."
Irish Paper.