The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
127
AN EASTERN YEARNING
Woman is part of Nature. She was born
From the bright sea-wave. She and flowers are one.
Can your cold Western culture e'er adorn
Her who is taught by sea-waves and the sun?
From the bright sea-wave. She and flowers are one.
Can your cold Western culture e'er adorn
Her who is taught by sea-waves and the sun?
Oh, God deliver me from Western dreams!
Give me warm moonlight on an Arab tent:
Within, the touch that thrills, the glance that gleams;
Soft bosom o'er me through the darkness bent.
Give me warm moonlight on an Arab tent:
Within, the touch that thrills, the glance that gleams;
Soft bosom o'er me through the darkness bent.
Then am I saved and crowned,—for bliss is there,
And perfect bliss is heaven. Whate'er men say,
I hold that God set stars within the air
That mouth to mouth might find a readier way!
And perfect bliss is heaven. Whate'er men say,
I hold that God set stars within the air
That mouth to mouth might find a readier way!
Is this ignoble? More than sky or flower
To love the glory of a woman's grace:
To win eternal rapture in an hour,
Life at her lips, and heaven in her embrace?
To love the glory of a woman's grace:
To win eternal rapture in an hour,
Life at her lips, and heaven in her embrace?
128
Ever to find fresh shapely wonders shown
(And beauty has unmeasured power to bless!)—
Ever to come on some grand curve unknown,
Some line of more than mortal loveliness?
(And beauty has unmeasured power to bless!)—
Ever to come on some grand curve unknown,
Some line of more than mortal loveliness?
To feel—as ever it is deepliest felt
At midmost thrilling of the close warm kiss—
The sense of form throughout one's being melt,
The sculptor's mingled with the lover's bliss?
At midmost thrilling of the close warm kiss—
The sense of form throughout one's being melt,
The sculptor's mingled with the lover's bliss?
I hold that God made flowers that man might know
That woman's beauty is a lovelier joy.
Breathe wisdom on the petals—Down they go!
Woman becomes an intellectual toy.
That woman's beauty is a lovelier joy.
Breathe wisdom on the petals—Down they go!
Woman becomes an intellectual toy.
Here in the West sweet womanhood is dead.
Woman is master: mankind is the slave.
Awestruck, the trembling spouse draws near her bed
And claims the rights her condescension gave.
Woman is master: mankind is the slave.
Awestruck, the trembling spouse draws near her bed
And claims the rights her condescension gave.
But she is master, ruler of the West:
The days of fragrant love have all gone by.
Ah me, the olden days were far the best!
There were more stars I think, then, in the sky.
The days of fragrant love have all gone by.
Ah me, the olden days were far the best!
There were more stars I think, then, in the sky.
129
There was more tenderness in woman's heart,
Less curséd Greek and Hebrew in her brain!
Then all she knew (enough to know) of Art
Was just the art man's passionate love to gain.
Less curséd Greek and Hebrew in her brain!
Then all she knew (enough to know) of Art
Was just the art man's passionate love to gain.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |