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The Spike or Victoria University College Review 1934



Evening—and through the trees
Moon sheds her light.
Spirit why lingerest
thou Still in thy night?

Leave thy earth's cloying bed—
Leave all decay;
Pass where the moon doth shed
Her luring ray,

There where a peace enfolds
In harmony,
All that no finite holds
Of mystery.

"Spike," 1918.

—Edith R. Davies.

"The Old Clay Patch," 1920.