Transfiguration

________________________________________________
Title:     Transfiguration
Author: David Morton [More Titles by Morton]

What old historic dust gives back the rose!
What crumbled empires yield the creeping vine!
And purple grapes have sucked a pleasant wine
From ramparts that had bowed to sudden blows.
Where now the unregarded river flows,
Old dissolute cities, their debauches done,
Lift up a slender blossom to the sun,
Steeped in the thoughtful silence where it grows.

Where Splendour was, no Splendour is today:
Ruin has wrought upon the crowns of kings,
Their throne-rooms all are green and tender things ...
And wonder dies,--save in the patient way
Of these slow transmutations in the dust:
Beauty from power, lilies out of lust.

[The end]
David Morton's poem: Transfiguration

________________________________________________



GO TO TOP OF SCREEN