Change of Heart by Myra Morris

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Once when I saw the far-off hills,
The frosty moon or a white-veiled tree,
The hills, the moon, the tree would come 
To be a trembling part of me.
The sea beyond the rose-flushed dunes 
Withdrawn and cold - a river-flood 
Silvering the hollow pasture-lands 
Would set a fever in my blood. 

Now I can watch the lilac gulls 
Circle the darker lilac tide,
And turn my collar up and wish
That I were home and safe inside . . . 
O, Time, what have you done to me 
That I can stay unmoved and stare 
At Beauty's very self and reach
No core of wonder prisoned there! 
If such be so how dare I live,
Draw easy breath, laugh, work and play, 
For I have let into my soul
The first slow shadow of decay. 

Here now then I shall go again
Humbly to the small things and find
In the shape of a single rounded stone 
Wonder and joy to fill my mind. 
Rapture implicit there will be
In the brown-spored moss, a spire of grass, 
A strange lost world that beckons from 
A raindrop hanging clear as glass!

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 18 April 1953

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on April 18, 2014 8:41 AM.

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