Old star up in the tree,
What is thls, what is this?
The orchard sits on the hill's knee
And the high corn-stems kiss.
But you have something to say to me:
And how should a word be stranger
Than a star-shine and a thought divine
Of a King of Babes in the manger?
Old star, you have said it long,
What is this, what is this?
The wind makes a low song
For something it seems to miss.
Wind, what is it that blows you wrong?
Wise Men, their wisdom scorning,
Have come far at the shine of the star
To beat at the gates of the morning.
Old star, going high and high,
What is this, what is this?
Angels are out on the steps of the sky
Chanting the hymns of their bliss.
Out of the dead, dead years that lie
The truth of the faith comes winging;
After red tears and the long, long fears
There is wider room for the singing.
First published in The Bulletin, 25 December 1919
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography
See also.
What is thls, what is this?
The orchard sits on the hill's knee
And the high corn-stems kiss.
But you have something to say to me:
And how should a word be stranger
Than a star-shine and a thought divine
Of a King of Babes in the manger?
Old star, you have said it long,
What is this, what is this?
The wind makes a low song
For something it seems to miss.
Wind, what is it that blows you wrong?
Wise Men, their wisdom scorning,
Have come far at the shine of the star
To beat at the gates of the morning.
Old star, going high and high,
What is this, what is this?
Angels are out on the steps of the sky
Chanting the hymns of their bliss.
Out of the dead, dead years that lie
The truth of the faith comes winging;
After red tears and the long, long fears
There is wider room for the singing.
First published in The Bulletin, 25 December 1919
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography
See also.
