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Home  »  Collected Poems by A.E.  »  78. A Summer Night

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

78. A Summer Night

HER mist of primroses within her breast

Twilight hath folded up, and o’er the west,

Seeking remoter valleys long hath gone,

Not yet hath come her sister of the dawn.

Silence and coolness now the earth enfold,

Jewels of glittering green, long mists of gold,

Hazes of nebulous silver veil the height,

And shake in tremors through the shadowy night.

Heard through the stillness, as in whispered words,

The wandering God-guided wings of birds

Ruffle the dark. The little lives that lie

Deep hid in grass join in a long-drawn sigh

More softly still; and unheard through the blue

The falling of innumerable dew,

Lifts with grey fingers all the leaves that lay

Burned in the heat of the consuming day.

The lawns and lakes lie in this night of love,

Admitted to the majesty above.

Earth with the starry company hath part;

The waters hold all heaven within their heart,

And glimmer o’er with wave-lips everywhere

Lifted to meet the angel lips of air.

The many homes of men shine near and far,

Peace-laden as the tender evening star,

The late home-coming folk anticipate

Their rest beyond the passing of the gate,

And tread with sleep-filled hearts and drowsy feet.

Oh, far away and wonderful and sweet

All this, all this. But far too many things

Obscuring, as a cloud of seraph wings

Blinding the seeker for the Lord behind,

I fall away in weariness of mind.

And think how far apart are I and you,

Beloved, from those spirit children who

Felt but one single Being long ago,

Whispering in gentleness and leaning low

Out of its majesty, as child to child.

I think upon it all with heart grown wild.

Hearing no voice, howe’er my spirit broods,

No whisper from the dense infinitudes,

This world of myriad things whose distance awes.

Ah me; how innocent our childhood was!