(BROOKHILL, 1918) THE stars faded out of the paling sky, Dropped through the waters, but the Morning Star Grew brighter and brighter, and as day was nigh A pure wind troubled the rushes near and far. No bird was yet awake: only the duck Homed to the little lake, fed full with streams: Strange and unreal the full morning broke On a still world as God saw it in dreams. The still-life, austere world was grey and cool, Lit by one burning torch of purest flame. Home—from what hidden haunt, what secret pool?— Borne on the morning wind, the wild duck came. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HAPPINESS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO W.P.: 3 by GEORGE SANTAYANA ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 5. AGAINST SUSPICION by MARK AKENSIDE STAGE SETTING KANSAS by BERNICE GIBBS ANDERSON THE DAUGHTER OF THE BLIND by ANNE M. F. ANNAN THE POET'S SOLILOQUY by E. M. AVERILL EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 21. 'TIS CONSTANCY THAT GAINS THE PRIZE by PHILIP AYRES |