POETRY.
COLOUR.
TEE lovely things that I have watched unthinking, Unknowing, day by day,
That their soft dyes had steeped my soul in colour That will not fade away : Great saffron sunset clouds ; and larkspur distance, And miles of fenceless plain, And hillsides golden-green in that unearthly Clear shining after rain; And nights of blue and pearl ; and long, smooth beaches Yellow as sunburnt wheat, Edged with a line of foam, that creams and hisses Enticing weary feet—If I am tired, I call on these to help me To dream—and dawn-lit skies, Lemon and pink, or faintest, coolest lilac, Float on my soothed eyes: And almond-trees in bloom ; and oleanders-; And then a purple sea Of plain-laud gorgeous with a lovely poison,* The evil Darling pea.
And emeralds, and sunset-hearted opals, And Asian marble, veined With scarlet fire; and cold green jade, and moonstones Misty and azure-stained- There is no night so black but you glow through it, There is no morn so drear, O Colour of the World, but I can find you Most tender, pure and clear.
Praise be to God Who gave this gift of colour Which who shall seek shall find ; Praise be to God Who gives me strength to hold it Though I were stricken blind . . . .
DOROTHEA MACKELLAR,
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