The Spike or Victoria University College Review Silver Jubilee 1924
When I was small they told to me
A thing I could not understand,
That God was one and yet was three,
Three splendours in one splendour furled.
They showed the clover stalk to me,
That was a leaf and yet was three,
And still my slowness could not understand.
But then, but then, in this same ferny land,
One died who was my banner and my shield,
Another followed ere my eyes had dried,
And while the fresh tears flowed the third one died.
They passed me swiftly one by one—
Without a backward look
On hill or field—
Into new lands,
Beyond my clutching hands,
Lifting the mournful sliprails of the world.
And my three woes beneath the sun
Became as one,
Three sorrows in one sorrow furled.
And oh for me who could not understand
Of things triune,
When taught by word or book,
Fearing from morrow into morrow,
Stepping from sorrow into sorrow,
Too clearly now the voice has spoken,
Too bitterly the Light has broken,
Too simple now it seems to me
The mystery of Trinity.