Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

61. The Vesture of the Soul

I PITIED one whose tattered dress

Was patched, and stained with dust and rain;

He smiled on me; I could not guess

The viewless spirit’s wide domain.

He said, “The royal robe I wear

Trails all along the fields of light:

Its silent blue and silver bear

For gems the starry dust of night.

“The breath of Joy unceasingly

Waves to and fro its folds starlit,

And far beyond earth’s misery

I live and breathe the joy of it.”