[Editor: This poem by E. J. Brady was published in The Earthen Floor (1902).]
IV.
Nocturne.
On the mountain crest the Shadow
Of victorious Morning clings;
And deep, moated gullies tremble
To the beat of ebon wings.
Through the still, expectant Forest —
Faint and luminous, afar,
Down the pallid West slow sinking,
Sets a solitary Star.
Yester-eve — my camp-fire over —
Glowed that lone star’s ardent ray;
Now the dead, white ashes scatter
And the Star sets cold and grey.
Oh, my Heart, thou throne of Passion!
Yester-eve thou too wert fire,
But this Morn thou holdest only
Dead white ashes of Desire.
In the West a pale star, fading,
Flickers, trembles, fails — and dies.
In the East a red star burning,
Fair as Love, doth slowly rise.
Source:
E. J. Brady, The Earthen Floor, Grafton (N.S.W.): Grip Newspaper Co., 1902
Editor’s notes:
ebon = dark brown or black; ebony
morn = morning
Old spelling in the original text:
doth (does)
holdest (holds)
thou (you)
wert (were)
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