POETRY
THE STAR
I smv a star shine in bare trees That stood in their dark effigies ; With voice so clear and close it sang That like a bird it seemed to hang Within the branches, not behind, Twigs on its rosy breast outlined.
A star of such bright amplitude It followed with me through the wood ; All other stars before its sphere Pale as their own reflections were ; The Plough, by pebbly fallow spurned, High in the sky lay overturned.
An obvious moon halving the night And haloed by a rainbow light Sounded as clear as silver bell ; The trees in flight before it fell, 'Their shadows straggling on the road Where glacier of soft moonlight flowed.
But moon nor star-untidy sky Could catch my eye as that star's eye ; For still I looked at that same star, That fitful, fiery Lucifer, Watching with mind as quiet as moss Its light nailed on a burning cross.
A. J. YOUNG.
Previous page
