A perpetual memory and other poems: By Henry Newbolt: With brief memoirs by Walter de la Mare and Ralph Furse and a portrait by Sir William Rothenstein |
 | I. |
The Star in the West
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| II. |
 | A perpetual memory |  |
11
The Star in the West
Listen with me tonight, listen O tenderly
To the wordless wailing of yonder newborn Child.
In vain his mother's arms enfold him and soothe him,
In vain her voice murmurs the song of tireless love.
To the wordless wailing of yonder newborn Child.
In vain his mother's arms enfold him and soothe him,
In vain her voice murmurs the song of tireless love.
Why does he weep? Why will he not be comforted?
Here on the threshold of his life, what does he dread?
Is it the dimness of the stable where he lies,
Or the gaunt ox and ass, shadows of toil to come?
Here on the threshold of his life, what does he dread?
Is it the dimness of the stable where he lies,
Or the gaunt ox and ass, shadows of toil to come?
Presently will he not uplift his wond'ring eyes
To see the face that is to be his earthly rest?
Will not the shining star above his low roof stayed
Lighten his childish dream with serene rays of peace?
To see the face that is to be his earthly rest?
Will not the shining star above his low roof stayed
Lighten his childish dream with serene rays of peace?
Dare not to ask!—unless ye dare also to hear
The story of his cross, his first and second death—
That men have murdered Night, and made stars of their own,
And flung them down from heav'n, and Peace has died by fire.
The story of his cross, his first and second death—
That men have murdered Night, and made stars of their own,
And flung them down from heav'n, and Peace has died by fire.
| A perpetual memory | |