Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/229

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
Imperfections.
193
When a poet’s frenzied brain Catches at some hidden truth,When is wash’d a crimson stain With forgiving tears of ruth,Is not then Prometheus’ brideStanding glowing by his side? Is not then more sweet to him Than the song of SeraphimHer sweet breath and placid eyes?For Earth is one with Paradise.

Ebenezer Storry Hay.

CXXXI.

Imperfections.

Three verses had my poem. Beauty fainHad found its fair abiding in the strain, And sung itself that men might hear and see.Yet of that beauty one verse utters nought:In one, discordance broke the tenderest thought.Well, one is perfect still. So let it be.Had I been greater I had gained the three.
Earth glories three beguiled me on a dayTheir shadowing on my canvas crude to lay. The pictured mountains paled of glory stand:The murmuring waves hang leaden lifeless thereOnly my sky is excellently fair.Well, let it be so. Was it for my handTo paint perfection, sea and sky and land?
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.