Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.

The Lilies of the Field

M. Compton Mackenzie (1883–1972)

THY soul is not enchanted by the moon;

No influential comet draws thy mind

To steeps intolerable where all behind

Is dark, and many ruin’d stars are strewn.

But thou, contented, canst enthrall the tune

That haunts each wood and every singing wind;

Thou, fortunate philosopher, canst find

The dreams of Earth in every drowsy noon.

Match not thy soul against the seraphim:

They are no more than moths blown to and fro

About the tempest of the eternal Will.

Rest undismay’d in field and forest dim

And, childlike, on some morning thou shalt know

The certain faith of a March daffodil.