 | The Poems of Selwyn Image |  |
69
SILENE QUINQUEVULNERA
to E. M.
A little flower there grows i' the field,
A white flower smirched with red:
And Christ's “Five Wounds” they call it for
The precious Blood He shed.
A white flower smirched with red:
And Christ's “Five Wounds” they call it for
The precious Blood He shed.
Its dainty bloom you may not find
Where'er you chance to go:
And when you find it, ah! you see
Its modest head lies low.
Where'er you chance to go:
And when you find it, ah! you see
Its modest head lies low.
For 'tis no Wanton, flaunting fair,
To catch your eye with wonder;
Its beauty you shall scarce suspect,
E'er first you pause and ponder.
To catch your eye with wonder;
Its beauty you shall scarce suspect,
E'er first you pause and ponder.
Kneel quietly down beside it, take
A blossom in your hand;
And as you gaze and gaze, may be
You'll come to understand
A blossom in your hand;
And as you gaze and gaze, may be
You'll come to understand
The pious thought that held the breath
Of him, the first to name it,
Nor deem it over-bold his thought,
And turn aside to blame it.
Of him, the first to name it,
Nor deem it over-bold his thought,
And turn aside to blame it.
For He, whose grace such simple flower
Here bids us to recall,
Bade human pride consider well
The glory of them all:
Here bids us to recall,
Bade human pride consider well
The glory of them all:
70
The meanest as the fairest bloom
Transcending human art,
And with a message out of Heaven
For each receptive heart.
Transcending human art,
And with a message out of Heaven
For each receptive heart.
August 24th, 1913.
| The Poems of Selwyn Image | |