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They tell us yonder new-found star
   That beams on mortal bowers,
It needed half ten thousand years
   To reach this Earth of ours.

And yet -- O strange! -- it may by now
   Be dead in ashes cold,
And quenched may be the tender ray
   That tints our Night with gold.

And so, perchance, thy word may shine
   What time thy life is o'er,
And send abroad a silver sign
   To light a distant shore.

Ay, so, perchance, may proudly gleam,
   When thou hast left this clime,
The mem'ry of thy noble deed
   Adown the deeps of Time!

First published in The Bulletin, 17 February 1921

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

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Thy purpose, heavenly Stranger, who may know
But He who linked thee to the starry Whole?
We see thou journeyest, -- and no more; for of
The birth of Motion, save as the first step
Of God's creative power, Mankind even yet
May but conjecture, as they did of old,
The Shepherd Sages of the mystic East.   
Yet may we dream of thee in thy career,
As of a wandering symphony from amidst,
The planetary Voices of the World;   
Singing together, in their sun-led choirs,
The divine song of an eternal order.

Thus may we dream of thee -- and I, methinks,
With an especial privilege; for I,
(Unweetingly indeed) of all who watched
Thy coming, saw thee first in my own Land:
Then having wandered forth alone, as wont,
To steep my heart in the rich sunset -- lo,
I saw, half doubtingly, its fading hues
Leave thee sole wonder of the twylight sky.

But now, since thou hast travelled high in Heaven,
Thousands of wondering Spirits, all are out
Duly each night, with upturned looks, to drink
The mystery of thy beauty.

               In thy dust
Bright visitation, even thus, thou sawst
The young, the lovely, and the wise of Earth,   
A buried Generation, thronging forth
In wonder, to behold thee pass, and then
Know thee no more ; and when the flaming steps
Of thy unspeakable speed shall carry thee
Beyond our vision, all the beautiful eyes
Now opening up at thee, -- eyes made by Love
As tender as the turtle's, or that speak
The fervent soul and the majestic mind,
Shall be fast closed in death, and give for aye
Their lustre to the grave, ere thou again
Shall drive thy fiery chariot round the Sun!
But orbs as beautiful and loving -- yea,
More radiant in their wisdom, from a more
Enlarged communion with the soul of Truth,
Shall gaze at thee instead, heavenly Stranger,
When thou return'st again! -- Ah, what a dream!
Ah, what a shadow is the life of Man!

First published in The Maitland Mercury & Hunter River General Advertiser, 2 December 1846;
and later in
The Bushrangers, a Play in Five Acts, and Other Poems by Charles Harpur, 1853; and
The Poetical Works of Charles Harpur edited by Elizabeth Perkins, 1984.

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library

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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

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Lapis lazuli, blue with mystery,
Lay ocean, chiming its low symphony,
Waking pale thought of the eternities,
Of 'tranced dawns, and stellar silences
Of night, when planets in their courses ran
Ere the metonic law of life began,
As slowly rose the mitred sovran steeps,
To form the barriers of the Protean deeps.

The centuries pursue the endless quest,
And, 'mid the tumult of the world's unrest,
Potential units, aching with desire,
Look to the great centrifugal white fire,
Till, marvelling and lost in the immense,
They reason: "Whence came the Omnipotence,
Creator, yet Himself the Uncreate,
Who ever was?" The problem, intricate,
Remains unsolved, for none may fathom Him.
The mind is finite -- theories wax dim;
But genesis of matter is not vain,
For microcosms die to flame again.

The seals are broken; science probes the sod,
Tracing God's footprints where no mortal trod;
Scaling the apex of eternal snows,
Poised on gigantic silver wings, and knows
No languor the supernal heights to climb,
Inspired with aerial visionings sublime:
And mind o'er matter in the strenuous race
Flings wide the gateways of cerulean space.
And man applauds, as, with deep, bated breath
It winnows germs of life from husks of death.
Rich voices that had once divinely stirred
The inmost being, now long mute, are heard
In thrilling numbers of mellifluous sound
The while the singer lies in sleep profound.

Thus is unwound the hieroglyphic scroll,
And clear-eyed sapience with eager soul
Peers into dark abysms unrevealed,
Which in earth's withered matrix lie concealed.
Boccaccio's close ne'er heard a stranger tale
From beauty, carmine-lipped and olive pale --
Than queenly charm, now turned to dust and mould,
Which the vast theatres of age unfold,
When opulence and loveliness clasped hands,
Stealing along the desert's burning sands,
Who seeks may find that essence whence we came,
Whose mystery sets pulsing thought aflame;
But, to the lilting of this antique rhyme,
Emerging from dim galleries of time
In blue magnificence, remotely far,
There, on night's forehead, gleams a splendid star.

First published in The Brisbane Courier, 21 August 1926

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

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