POIGNANT AND FINE

Every year on Christmas Day, I put up a small poem by the late Jill Furse, which moved me when I first read it nearly fifty years ago and still moves me today. Jill Furse, a young and brilliant actress, was the beloved first wife of the poet and glass-engraver Sir Laurence Whistler. She died just after giving birth to her second child, at the age of 29. I strongly recommend Whistler's The Initials in the Heart, a beautifully-written account of their marriage. 

CAROL

Beyond this room

Daylight is brief.

Frost with no harm

Burns in white flame

The green holly leaf. 

Cold on the wind’s arm

Is ermine of snow.

Child with the sad name,

Your time is come

Quiet as moss.

You journey now

For our belief

Between the rich womb

And the poor cross.

Jill Furse (1915-1944)