Radclyffe Hall

1880 - 1943 / Bournemouth, Hampshire

The Quest Of The White Heather

Schwartz Wald
I sought at dawn for the sweet white heather,
In hiding among the blue,
The earth was warm with the summer weather,
The flowers still damp with dew.

I moved a stone with my foot in walking,
A lizard ran out in fear,
Two tiny streams to each other talking
Complained that I came so near.

And all alone on the side of the mountain
I spoke to the new-born Day,
Oh ! help me to gather some rare white heather
Sweet Morning, show me the way !

A big stag beetle crawled close in wonder,
A grasshopper chirped of rain,
A bee just pushing some flowers asunder
Buzzed loud in his vast disdain.

The pines swayed gently, as though with laughter,
They knew what I came to seek !
A thistledown that the breeze ran after
Brushed lightly against my cheek.

And all alone on the side of the mountain
I spoke to the new born Day,
Oh ! help me to gather some rare white heather,
Sweet Morning, show me the way!

A trout jumped high with a rainbow shudder,
To see how the mortals look,
Then swayed his tail like a silver rudder,
And swam away in the brook.

I think I heard all the Pixies saying
' No heather that 's white you'll find !
'I know I saw little Gnome-folk playing
Where shadowy boughs reclined—

And all alone on the side of the mountain
I spoke to the new born Day,
O help me to gather some rare white heather,
Sweet Morning, show me the way!

Alas ! alas ! for the fairy flower,
My feet grew weary in vain,
I sought for luck thro' each sunlit bower,
To find it truant again.

Then while I paused on the side of the mountain
The stillness was cleft apart,
And Morning cried ' He who seeks white heather
Must find it deep in his heart !'
101 Total read