The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| XX. |
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| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
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| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
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| XL. |
| XLI. |
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| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
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| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
322
UNCONSCIOUS TEACHING
The thoughts that trouble poets vex not thee:
Thy purity
Lifts thee for ever to a higher air.
Above the mists of life and all its gloom
Thou see'st the bloom
In blue skies of the star-flowers clustered there.
Thy purity
Lifts thee for ever to a higher air.
Above the mists of life and all its gloom
Thou see'st the bloom
In blue skies of the star-flowers clustered there.
We weary souls must struggle, ere we reap;
Toil, ere we sleep;
But thou without an effort enterest straight
The golden palace-doors that we unclose
By fierce wild blows;
At thy mere hand-touch opens wide the gate.
Toil, ere we sleep;
But thou without an effort enterest straight
The golden palace-doors that we unclose
By fierce wild blows;
At thy mere hand-touch opens wide the gate.
Thou art so close to heaven and God indeed
That book nor creed
Thou needest. Thine own soul is so divine
Thou findest ready-graved and written there
Commandments fair,
Pure law by law, and sacred line by line.
That book nor creed
Thou needest. Thine own soul is so divine
323
Commandments fair,
Pure law by law, and sacred line by line.
If I would learn of God, I come to thee
And then I see
Straightway what long strange epochs could not reach.
Through thee, so simply sweet, I apprehend
Life's high true end
And learn as thine eyes, all unconscious, teach.
And then I see
Straightway what long strange epochs could not reach.
Through thee, so simply sweet, I apprehend
Life's high true end
And learn as thine eyes, all unconscious, teach.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |