George Essex Evans Poems

Weary was I of Earth. My body lay,
Its fires turned down and slaked to faintest heat.
My soul went out into the night away
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The dull earth swung in silence o’er,
A dreamless world, a dreary star,
Until the doves of Venus bore
To Thessaly her ivory car.
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Whisper, O wings of the wind! Sing me your song, O sea!
Grey is the weary world, and grey is the heart of me!
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All things are Hers. Concealed or manifest,
Found or unfound, Her Spirit lives in each—
Dumb till the Master-Soul its secret guessed
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’TIS a green isle set in a silver water,
A fairy isle where the shamrock grows.
Land of Legend, the Dream-Queen’s daughter—
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Where is God, whilst all around us sounds the jarring of the wheels,
When the cry of human anguish starwards thro’ His glory steals?
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Half-lost in film of faintest lawn,
A single star in armour white
Upon the dreamy heights of dawn
Guards dim frontier of the night,
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His hat looks worn, and his coat-sleeves shine,
As I see him step from his ’bus at nine;
His boots are pieced and his tie home-made,
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Free is the wind that lashes into foam
The fortress waves that gird the Sea-King’s home
And free the war-worn Flag that is our fame
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Here in the silence cometh unto me
A song that is not mine,
With wash of waves along the cold shore line,
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