George Essex Evans Poems

There fell on me a dream when days were gray,
And Hope had left me there to grope alone
Amid the silence of an unknown way
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An amphitheatre of purple hills
And emerald slopes where nestling villas gleam,
Flooded with golden light that crowns and fills
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Dim in the mist of ages, seeking a resting-place,
Broke on the shores of Britain the wave of an Aryan race.
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I have seen the plains lying baked and bare,
When drought and famine hold revel there,
And the cattle sink where the rotting shoals
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O for a vision of the perfect light
To shame the splendour of the morning star!
O for a breath from out the Infinite
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Girl, with the soft grey eyes,
You to the flowers belong:
From the perfume of a rose
My heart shall weave you a song.
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Chequered with sunshine and shade—the umbrage of white clouds in motion—
Rearing their summits to Heaven, broken like waves on their strands,
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There is a magic kingdom of strange powers,
Thought-hidden, lit by other stars than ours;
And, when a wanderer through its mazes brings
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WIDE are the plains—the plains that stretch to the west
An ocean of trackless waste, untrodden and rude,
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This is the story of one man’s soul.
The paths are stony and passion is blind,
And feet must bleed ere the light we find.
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