VIOLET CUTBILL POETRY ~ The Magic Hour

‘The Nightingdale’ – The Magic Hour by Violet Cutbill

/ Shekinah El Daoud / Leave a comment

Nightingdale ~ British Trust for Ornithology

* * *

‘The Nightingdale’

 

Sing! Sweet songster of the Spring supreme!

Sing! For trembling in thine airy song,

Youth, long lost, returns to live again.

Sing! Though sorrow rise, and wild desire. Sing!

*

Though thy winged notes awaken hidden despair,

And fan to flames our heart’s dead fire. Sing! Sing!

Dear songster, sing!…..nor cease, for in thy voice

I hear the Muse’s lyre, and raptures, breathe

Elysian air.

*

Sing on, sweet bird, until

My heart the stairway of ascent hath found

To song’s high throne. Sing! Till my poor soul fling

Off her chains, to move in unison with life’s

Great whole,

the swift pulsation of the stars

Mine own, the rhythm of the unfolding flowers,

The swinging measure of all growing things,

That rise and sink beneath the Master’s wand.

*

Sing! And then descend into silence, while thy heart,

Poised in the heavens thy soaring song hath found,

Beat out the bars of joy’s full rhapsody,

Where life returns through death to birth again,

And God for evermore is newly risen.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ 

The Published Poetry of Violet Hilton Cutbill – The British Library, London:
“The Magic Hour” 1930’s
Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah

‘Death’ – The Magic Hour by Violet Cutbill

/ Shekinah El Daoud / 2 Comments

The Angel of Illumination – Aeoliah’s Visionary Art

* * *

‘Death’

Death took me by the hand. Ah me!

What woulds’t thou, Death, with me?

For tranquil lies the distant sea,

And through the flowers the whispering breezes sigh;

What woulds’t thou, Death, with me?

*

Death averted his dark eyes. Ah me!

How can I read those eyes, laden with destiny,

How surmise whither he beckons me,

Through what strange paths my way now lies!

*

‘Chill is thy breath,’ I cried. ‘Ah me,

Must I then leave life’s joys to walk with thee?’

Loudly I cried, ‘Is not my spirit free?

Thou cans’t not capture me ~

What wilt thou, then, with me?’

*

So softly as the wind at twilight sighs,

Death answered me: ‘Rise,

I have need of thee!

Fettered by dreams, thy breath wasted on vanity,

Thou art not free. Rise!

Sight I will give to thee.

I gave thee life:

Give back the gift to me.’

*

Death paused, shadowed in Mystery.

Awe crept over me.

Compelled, I gazed on his stern form,

Raised now mine eyes to his, calmly regarding me,

Fear fled, for through the gloom

Light on his form was shed,

Darkness was quelled.

Past all I in error willed.

I there, Eternal Love beheld,

Soul of me, stilled!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ 

The Published Poetry of Violet Hilton Cutbill – The British Library, London:
“The Magic Hour” 1930’s
Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah

‘Wings of Night’ – The Magic Hour by Violet Cutbill

/ Shekinah El Daoud / 2 Comments

Artist ~ James Christensen

* * *

‘Wings of Night’

 

When droop the wings of Night across my soul,

How will it go, with thee, O Soul,

What wilt thou treasure most,

What, more than all,

Within thy dearest love enfold?

*

Will voice of falling waters

Charm thee most,

Or memory of bird’s glad song,

or form and fragrance of the fairest flowers

Hold thee within the subtlest thrall,

*

When droop the wings of Night across thee, soul,

And shades eternal o’er thy pathway fall?

When droop the wings of Night across thee, soul,

How will it go, How with thee, O Soul?

*

Will laughter in the eyes of thy beloved

Lighten the darkness that befalls,

Stem best the gloom’s encircling flow,

Or memory of sunsets framed in gold,

And woven with the colours of the rose

Thee most console;

*

Artist ~ Angela Beta-Casale

~

Or aureoled dawns

Thou dids’t in joy, behold,

The lovelier, fairer far,

Since now thy sun sinks low?

When droop the wings of night across thee, Soul?

How will it go? How with thee, O Soul,

*

The clouds of the Abyss,

Already chill, against thee rolled,

Thy youth’s strength failed,

Thy hold, thine ardent hold

On life, grown faint, thy body old?

*

Replied the Soul:

‘All things I loved will with me go,

The River of the Beautiful will by me flow,

Reflecting Harmony and Joy,

The Hills of Truth their outline,

‘Gainst the boundless sky, will roll

*

And Love, across Death’s frontiers,

Love with me, will go, the Angel of Eternity,

So, when droop the wings of Night across my soul,

No fears shall me assail,

For Love, the Deathless, Love will with me go,

For life’s sole origin, my guide, mine all.’

~

The Published Poetry of Violet Hilton Cutbill – The British Library, London:
“The Magic Hour” 1930’s
Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah