The Spike or Victoria College Review 1947
'Hands which breathe union
And are never nearer than trembling
In pillory-pain or ruin-rack
Fumble for fulfillment
And never are fulfilled.
Constricted love is slowly withdrawn
To popish-narrow seclusion.
My senses acclaim the act of wishing
For trees, skies, God, you,
But head and dreams are cleft.
The one red leaf on a barefoot tree
Like fraudulent fruit falls quietly.'