Upon the hill there stood, as in a painting,
The old white house the palm-tree, and the star,
Leaning so near, it seemed, so close together,
Is that reality? One shines afar.
A myriad miles! A sun through aeons blazing
In stellar space: what is this house, this tree,
Engirt by time, compared to that star ranging
The dark, lone laneways of Infinity?
And yet the tree that is so kindly growing,
The house that man for man has builded well --
These are beloved within their day, while lonely
The star shines on, remote, immutable.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 14 September 1935
Author: Marjorie Quinn (1889-1972) was born in Sydney, the daughter of Patrick Quinn and the niece of Roderic Quinn. She was a foundation member and first secretary of the Fellowship of Australian Writers, a foundation member of the PEN Club, and secretary of the Society of Women Writers.
Author reference site: Austlit
See also.
The old white house the palm-tree, and the star,
Leaning so near, it seemed, so close together,
Is that reality? One shines afar.
A myriad miles! A sun through aeons blazing
In stellar space: what is this house, this tree,
Engirt by time, compared to that star ranging
The dark, lone laneways of Infinity?
And yet the tree that is so kindly growing,
The house that man for man has builded well --
These are beloved within their day, while lonely
The star shines on, remote, immutable.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 14 September 1935
Author: Marjorie Quinn (1889-1972) was born in Sydney, the daughter of Patrick Quinn and the niece of Roderic Quinn. She was a foundation member and first secretary of the Fellowship of Australian Writers, a foundation member of the PEN Club, and secretary of the Society of Women Writers.
Author reference site: Austlit
See also.
