Morning Glory by Kathleen Dalziel

| No TrackBacks
When Mary hushed her Son to sleep
   Beneath the trees at even fall --
The dusky cedars used to keep
   Green watch and ward above it all.

And all that hour was filled with grace,
   And every flower looked up with joy
To see the light on Mary's face
   While crooning to the drowsy Boy.

But ere the stars are blossom-white
   In fields of heaven, one sad, closed flower
('Tis said) crept by her garments bright
   And caught their color from that hour --

The holy blue of Mary's gown;
   And, sad no more, to morning skies
Flung forth triumphant, over-blown
   With all the blues of Paradise,

The morning glory, still to keep
   Her blossoming mantle mystical,
Though thrones have crumbled in a heap,
   And into dust those idols all....
Since Mary hushed her Son to sleep
   Beneath the trees at even-fall.

First published in The Australian Woman's Mirror, 10 December 1929

Author reference site: Austlit

See also.

No TrackBacks

TrackBack URL:

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on December 10, 2014 7:44 AM.

Junket-Time in Fairyland by Zora Cross was the previous entry in this blog.

Back on the Station 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