My late mother was 16 years old when she wrote this in 1939.
|Sic Transit Gloria Mundi
There reigned a sweet and silent eve.
Into my heart a summer breeze
A lazy web of dreams did weave,
And then I sailed on Beauty's seas.
A tree of ancient splendour stood,
In outline dark against the sky.
O Time, if you for ever could
Be still, and Beauty never fly!
The rapture that was in the air
Was gone, I heard a hawker cry
"War!" And I heard the trumpets blare!
And then I knew than men must die.
P. Lurie (1939)