Penn Says: A Gift of a Bible
Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.
160. Evil
By Marie E. J. Pitt
| NOT Beelzebub, but white archangel, I | |
| Turn the dim glass and shift the sands again, | |
| And touch the eyelids of the sons of men | |
| Lest they forget—forget and drowsy lie | |
| In Fate’s unfurrowed fallow till they die— | 5 |
| As seed that quickens not for dawns that leap | |
| From out the dark of immemorial years, | |
| With kiss of wind and sun and wizard tears | |
| Of fugitive clouds to wake them from their sleep. | |
| With milestones I have set the crumbling sod | 10 |
| Of human judgement that they stray not wide, | |
| Nor languish lost in labyrinths alway; | |
| And smile in pity when I hear them pray | |
| That Wrong’s rude whips from them be turned aside, | |
| Who call me Evil—not discerning God. | 15 |
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Therefore...Quote Satan
Every Small Candle lights a corner of the dark, And the darkness cannot overcome it. 













