Ethel Turner (24 January 1872 – 8 April 1958 / Doncaster / England)
A Trembling Star
"There is my little trembling star," she said.
I looked; once more
The tender sea had put the sun to bed,
And heaven's floor
And nowhere yet in all that young night sky
Was any star,
But one that hung above the sea. Not high,
Nor very far
"I watch it every night," she said, and crept
Within my arm.
"Soft little star, I wish the angels kept
It safe from harm
"I know it is afraid," she said; her eyes
Held a sweet tear.
"They send it all alone into the skies,
No big stars near,
"They push it out before the sweet, kind moon
Lights up the sea.
They laugh because it fears the dark. `Soon, soon,
You'll braver be,'
"One night I climbed far up that high white tree
Beside the beach,
And tried to stretch my hand across the sea
And tried to reach
"For something made me feel my heart would break
Unless that night
I in my hand my trembling star could take
And kiss its fright
"There only blew a strange wind chillily,
And clouds were swept.
The angels would not let my own star see
That someone wept.
"To Christ, who hears my little prayers each night,
That He will seek
Through all His skies for that sweet, frightened light,
And stoop His cheek
"`My angels must not send so frail a thing
To light the West.
Lift up the little trembling star to cling
About my breast
Comments about this poem (A Trembling Star by Ethel Turner )
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