End of an Era

No time to sing of lips and eyes
No time.
The towers are crumbling and the girders bend;
Pretty and plain are starkly one
Under the shattered dust
Or fused into the stones at Hiroshima.

No time to rhapsodize
No time; here
At this turning point of the sphere
We run against the escalator
Strive with the metronome
Wrestle with the bells in phrenetic calculation,
"Give us but time but time but time!"

No time to pass, now, by the bridge of sighs,
The decking riven in London
And in New York the bolstered piers shuddering,
No time,

In Paris the corroded cables fall away;
In Moscow an impression of solidity prevails—
The recast anchor from Treves and the new planking—
But an era ends, the rough flood flows
Tumbling the tangled [unclear: wreckage].
Not time piled up on time
But this relentless moment shall decide—
The wind's thin fingers stroke an idle skull
An empty planet spins a vacant course,
Or with a voluntary sloughing of old skins
A cataclysmic knocking together of old stagnant heads
We force a reasoned splendour from our world.

—[unclear: Bruce] McLeod.

"The School of Physiology at Melbourne University has asked the Commonwealth Employment Service for a contortionist," says the Sydney "Morning Herald." "The successful applicant will be required to put on an act for an hour to enable specialists to observe the muscle action of persons whose joints allow contortion." They should try Jack Lang.

* * *

Even been to a cattle fair? If not, you can just catch the atmosphere if you stand at the foot of the main stairway about 5 o'clock.

* * *

The Argentine flag-bearer "apparently forgot" to lower his flag in salute when passing the Royal box at the opening of the Olympic Games. Last time this was done was by the United States in 1906, says Wallie Ingram. Strike you as odd?

* * *

Professor Gordon's plea for an Empire exchange of young students is timely—can't recall anyone putting it into words before. I'd like to see concrete proposals brought down and acted upon.