The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | VIII. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. | IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| 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. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XC. |
| XCI. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII. |
| XCIV. |
| XCV. |
| XCVI. |
| XCVII. |
| XCVIII. |
| XCIX. |
| C. |
| CI. |
| CII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
IX.
That thou shouldst be my mother hour by hour,
Changeless, of sovereign power,
That all of thine should last
Though aging worlds drew deathward, darkening fast,
Changeless, of sovereign power,
That all of thine should last
Though aging worlds drew deathward, darkening fast,
This seemed past question: yea, that when the morn
O'er golden hills was borne,—
That when at drowsy noon
The glad earth slept, with eyelids touched by June,—
O'er golden hills was borne,—
That when at drowsy noon
The glad earth slept, with eyelids touched by June,—
83
That when from budding copse or white-flowered tree
Rang forth the throstle's glee,—
That when the blue waves bore
Tribute of rainbow shells to rock or shore,—
Rang forth the throstle's glee,—
That when the blue waves bore
Tribute of rainbow shells to rock or shore,—
That when the boats black-hulled and russet-sailed
Gleamed, till the light wind failed,—
That when the bright star-rebels, one by one
Glittering, deposed the sun,—
Gleamed, till the light wind failed,—
That when the bright star-rebels, one by one
Glittering, deposed the sun,—
That then thou shouldst be with me seemed so right
That never, save at night
Sometimes, when flashes of the future came
Across me like a flame,
That never, save at night
Sometimes, when flashes of the future came
Across me like a flame,
Could I conceive that one day all these things
Would go on as before,
But thou wouldst never mark the throstle's wings
Nor watch the white-edged shore.
Would go on as before,
But thou wouldst never mark the throstle's wings
Nor watch the white-edged shore.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |