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Home  »  Collected Poems by A.E.  »  37. Mystery

Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

37. Mystery

WHY does this sudden passion smite me?

I stretch my hands, all blind to see:

I need the lamp of the world to light me,

Lead me and set me free.

Something a moment seemed to stoop from

The night with cool, cool breath on my face:

Or did the hair of the twilight droop from

Its silent wandering ways?

About me in the thick wood netted

The wizard glow looks human-wise;

And over the tree-tops barred and fretted

Ponders with strange old eyes.

The tremulous lips of air blow by me

And hymn their time-old melody:

Its secret strain comes nigh and nigh me:

“Ah, brother, come with me;

“For here the ancient mother lingers

To dip her hands in the diamond dew,

And lave thine ache with cloud-cool fingers

Till sorrow die from you.”