Joseph Conway

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The Courage Thou Awake

Thou who hold buds of dream, but change not
Who envision lutes are yourself as bronze,
Lay down your tales old and buoy the yacht
Search beyond fond seas like springs swans.
Thou need not potential or trophies to be thou,
A past not glory, the white morrow not a trail,
Keep in mind always the skills life doth allow,
Are nothing to the decisions thy may unveil.
The young moon in his soft gracious hours,
Sighs not for rays or splendour of the suns gaze,
But labours to guide light with celestial powers,
Bathing woods lovingly in his cool silver ways.
Lavender knows no rainbow hues, his robe shady,
As tulips bask in jewelled tints and ripen June,
But O! All winter, labours thy violet-frocked lady,
With love, with incense, and no slumber soon,
As fresh and gorgeous as the Queen robin's tune.
Therefore unburden your heart of its crystal pain,
As the dear breeze is how it feel, how it refrain,
Thy entire future art the decisions thou make,
Thy possibilities art the courage thou awake.

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