To My Mother

  Once more the Christian festival is near,
  And I, for whom each day repeats all days
  Continuously in ecstasy of praise,
  Love’s birthday lasting through the unending year,
  Am dreaming how the spirit draws me sheer
  From farthest wandering in the illusive maze
  To that white centre whose creative blaze
  Spun me aloft and sets me tremulous here.
  And since all heaven is figured in my heart,
  As in a dewdrop ere it change and live
  There shines the glory of the eternal dome,
  Mother, to you the showering meteors dart
  Of free affection, fancies fugitive,
  And flare, with increasing heat and splendour, home.