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Poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall


O Silver Rose


THE dark hour turns so slowly and so sweet,
The last still hour soft-fallen from the stars.
To-morrow I may kneel and touch thy feet,
O Rose of all Shiraz.

Lay wide thine amorous lattice to the south,
O Silver Rose, when roses breathe thy name,
And thou at dawn shalt feel upon thy mouth
The kiss I dared not claim.

Discrowned, dishonoured, reft of pride and power,
From the red battle where they hailed me lord,
O Silver Rose, O sweet Pomegranate Flower,
I turn me to their sword.

Life hath so held me to an empty part,
Life hath so snared me, bound and made me blind.
To-morrow I may rest upon thy heart,
For death shall prove more kind.



Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall


Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall's other poems:
  1. The Hillmans Lass
  2. Sheep
  3. Fame
  4. Kwannon
  5. Adam and Eve


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