Dancing Dust

Poems by Mollie Caird (1922-2000)

On Botticelli's Nativity

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All nature clusters round the Infant's bed,
The ox, the ass, the humble shepherd band;
The green grove presses near, and overhead
The circling seraphim dance hand in hand.

Terrestrial blue the sky beneath their feet,
Celestial gold the cloud about their hair,
As rosy-winged, with olive branches sweet,
They move like doves upon the evening air.

Harmonious, radiant, they float on high,
The soft wind stirs and fills their flowing gowns,
And lo! among them, shining in the sky,
The golden constellation of their crowns.

Three kneeling angels watch above their Lord,
Gild with their touch the thatch upon the byre,
They read the Promise from God's holy Word,
And join their praises with the singing choir.

Here on the highway to the world's sweet bliss,
Mortals and loving angels humbly meet,
Greet and embrace, and at their nuptial kiss
Black devilish things fall dead about their feet.

Here is the mystic truth of Incarnation,
This golden autumn which our God has sent,
Here at the harvest-home of man's redemption
The angels dance in passionate content.

Oxford Times (undated)