Clouds by Myra Morris

| No TrackBacks
Where sunset hues have thinly spilled 
Above the silver of the sea,
The snowy clouds dissolving, build 
O'er terraces of lambent gold, 
White palaces of ivory --
White palaces that gently soar,
With rosy roofs and glistening walls, 
With winding stairs from every floor! 
And there my fancy wanders free, 
Within the dusk of magic halls.

And high above the dreaming rim 
Of sky and water palely spun,
The clouds like ships, wind-driven, skim 
A second sea, and sailing on,
Go drifting to the crimson sun.
Fantastic ships with sails unfurled,
They move with every mast a-gleam,
Their rainbow rigging finely pearled, 
While I within these ships of cloud, 
Seem sailing to a world of dream! 
The white clouds lifting snowy caps, 
Rise up to ragged scaur and steep,
And through their shadow-haunted gaps, 
The mists that dim the valleys there; 
Look sweet as love, and soft as sleep. 
Past ashen hollows cold and clear, 
Past ridges lit with leaping fire,
The farthest summits stand austere!   
And there it seems I walk at last,
The mountain peaks of my desire.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 7 September 1929

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

No TrackBacks

TrackBack URL:

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on September 7, 2014 12:02 PM.

Song by Zora Cross was the previous entry in this blog.

Life by Mabel Forrest is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.


Powered by Movable Type 4.23-en