PDF《Poems》

Poems Quinn, Roderic A digital text sponsored by Australian Literature Gateway University of Sydney Library Sydney

2003 http://purl.

library.usyd.edu.au/setis/id/quipoem ? University of Sydney Library. The texts and images are not to be used for commercial purposes without permission Source Text: Prepared from the print edition published by Angus and Robertson Sydney

1920 194pp. All quotation marks are retained as data. First Published:

1920 821.91A Australian Etext Collections at poetry 1910-1939 Poems Sydney Angus and Robertson

1920 To My Brothers Poems The Hidden Tide WITHIN the world a second world That circles ceaselessly: Stars in the sky and sister stars ― Turn in your eyes and see! Tides of the sea that rise and fall, Aheave from Pole to Pole ― And kindred swayings, veiled but felt, That noise along the soul. Yon moon, high-throned, remote and pale As though with pride extreme, Draws up the sea;

but what white moon Exalts the tide of Dream? The Fisher-Folk who cast their nets In Vision'

s golden tide Oft bring to light misshapen shells, And nothing worth beside. And so their worn hands droop adown, Their singing throats are dumb;

The Inner Deep withholds its pearls Till turn of tide be come. But patience! wait ― the good tide turns, The waters inward set;

And lo, behold ― aleap, alive With glowing fish the net! O Toilers of the Hidden Seas! Ye have strange gain and loss, Dragging the Deeps of Soul for pearls, And oft-times netting dross. Fierce are the winds across your realm, As though some Demon veiled Had loosed the gates of Spirit-land To ravage ways unsailed. But still sweet hours befall at times, Rich-lit and full of ease;

The afterglow is like the light Of sunset on tired seas. And worse, perhaps, may be the lot Of those whose fate is sleep, The sodden souls without a tide, Dense as a rotten deep. Pain paves the way for keener joy, And wondrous thoughts uproll When the large moon of Peace looks down On high tide in the Soul. Spring Song SING out and be happy! The Spring is at hand, The grass green, and sappy The trees o'

the land. Sing! for the breeze is Rustling and silky, And toys with and teases Long blossoms and milky. The root in the juices Unfrosted drinks deep;

The loving wave sluices The weeds as they sleep. Sing out! for the bees in Their quest of wild honey Are haunting the trees in Green places and sunny. Distant blue reaches And green hills invite, Green hills and long beaches And roads red and white. Locked waters are calling With many gold voices, Where tides gently falling Make soft liquid noises. Broad-spreading sun-glamour Wraps blossom and stream, Gold-tinting the armour Of beetles that dream. Full-sunned on lit ledges The bronze lizard dozes, And painting proud ridges Grow tiny pink roses. Sing out! and let trouble Another pursue: It will burst like a bubble And vanish for you. Out, out on old Sorrow, Who skulks in her sable! Laugh gaily, and borrow Gay laughs while you'

re able. If any care rankles ― Away! and behold Pink feet and white ankles On beaches of gold, And surf that runs after To kiss clinging dresses, And white teeth and laughter, And wild clinging tresses! The Frontier-Land YOU of the past, are you present? Draw nearer! my heart is sore. Was yours the fall of the foot in the hall? Was yours the face at the door? As I lifted my eyes I saw you;

You vanished, and all was still;

And only outside the white owl cried, And the moon stared over the hill. Wan-blue were your eyes, O Shadow, And paler your aspect than seems The mystical star, that glimmers afar In a land of mysterious dreams. O Shadow, the past is present, And empty your coffin and tomb;