Lazeczko, Myra. “Songs of the Temple.” “Young Authors’ Section: The Poet’s Circle.” Winnipeg Free Press (21 January 1939) 6.

W.E.I., the (male) writer of the comments in “The Poet’s Circle,” commented that “We think, Myra, that when you write, a wind must blow upon you, as it blew upon the Poet in Tennyson’s lines, from the gates of the sun.”

Songs of the Temple

Beauty smiles at me.
In sleep I awaken.
I walk with thee, and I fear the dawn, as a child feareth the night.
Before thee I, bow my laurels.
I know how little they signify.
Be not angry with me.
Youth knoweth, and is wise in things which Age is youthful in.
Yet Youth is ignorant in its own.

Let me be forever at the morning.
Let me hear what is common to thine ears, and strange to mine.
The bird dieth when the song perisheth.
So shall I perish when thou are away, sayeth my heart.
But my soul chideth me as a lover, his fears, saying “This cannot be.”
Thou are sacred, yet thou cometh in the garb of the Common,
So did He come.
Familiarity is familiarity in the garb of the strange.
Believe me… fear myself,
For the Love and Grief that welleth at my heart are too deep with despair, and joy, to be mine.
And yet … all human, natural things, in their simplicity are divine.

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