The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
184
“AMONG THE WILDWOOD BOWERS”
The sun streamed over vale and hill,
How joyous all things seemed!
Far in the distance, clear and still,
The yellow cornfields gleamed.
Fair was the summer land;
I held in mine your hand;
Your eyes drew mine, and in their depths I dreamed,
Holding in mine your hand!
How joyous all things seemed!
Far in the distance, clear and still,
The yellow cornfields gleamed.
Fair was the summer land;
I held in mine your hand;
Your eyes drew mine, and in their depths I dreamed,
Holding in mine your hand!
Then, on another golden day,
Among the wildwood bowers,
Love had its golden word to say
The while we gathered flowers.
“O love, my heart is thine;
Be thou for ever mine;
Life's loveliest purest gifts will all be ours,
If thou art ever mine!”
Among the wildwood bowers,
Love had its golden word to say
The while we gathered flowers.
“O love, my heart is thine;
Be thou for ever mine;
Life's loveliest purest gifts will all be ours,
If thou art ever mine!”
185
In what far other land than this,
Beneath what heavenly sky,
Shall we with wild undreamed-of bliss
Meet, sweetheart, you and I?
In what far other land
Shall we together stand,
Past death, past pain and parting, by and bye,—
In what far other land?
Beneath what heavenly sky,
Shall we with wild undreamed-of bliss
Meet, sweetheart, you and I?
In what far other land
Shall we together stand,
Past death, past pain and parting, by and bye,—
In what far other land?
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |