The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | VIII. |
|
|
|
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
What a change from London, drearier as the hot days hotter grew,
To the silent bay in Cornwall, to the calm sea's ceaseless blue,
To the breeze from off the moorlands! What a change for her and me
From the hospital in London to the hospice of the sea!
To the silent bay in Cornwall, to the calm sea's ceaseless blue,
To the breeze from off the moorlands! What a change for her and me
From the hospital in London to the hospice of the sea!
—Living quietly down in Cornwall with my mother, we alone,
Having nothing of a week-day we could call our very own
(On the Sabbath I was busy with the chapel-service, quite,
Busy from the early morning till the stars shone out at night)—
Having nothing of a week-day we could call our very own
(On the Sabbath I was busy with the chapel-service, quite,
Busy from the early morning till the stars shone out at night)—
160
Having nothing of a week-day we could care for just as ours,
Save the fuchsias in the window—what to living hearts are flowers?
I had brought away from London a small girlish flower-bud dropt
From some heavenly hand, we fancied, for our lone hearts to adopt.
Save the fuchsias in the window—what to living hearts are flowers?
I had brought away from London a small girlish flower-bud dropt
From some heavenly hand, we fancied, for our lone hearts to adopt.
She was daughter of a teacher—in a village school she had taught,
But some handsome roué from London whom Fate's reckless guidance brought
To her peaceful home in Sussex taught her love, and taught her well,
For he found her safe in heaven, but he left her lost in hell.
But some handsome roué from London whom Fate's reckless guidance brought
To her peaceful home in Sussex taught her love, and taught her well,
For he found her safe in heaven, but he left her lost in hell.
That was dark-eyed Annie's mother—through the round of sin and shame
She had passed when he forsook her—to the lowest deep she came
Till the hospital received her, and I found her lying there,
Just a mournful wreck of beauty, once a woman strangely fair.
She had passed when he forsook her—to the lowest deep she came
Till the hospital received her, and I found her lying there,
Just a mournful wreck of beauty, once a woman strangely fair.
161
I had taken a friend's sad duty, taken his mission for the day,
Just to visit these poor outcasts, and to speak to them, and pray;
So it happened that I saw her,—heard her pale sad lips impart
Just an every-day sad story, merely of one more broken heart.
Just to visit these poor outcasts, and to speak to them, and pray;
So it happened that I saw her,—heard her pale sad lips impart
Just an every-day sad story, merely of one more broken heart.
So it happened, a while later, when the mother's fate was sealed
And the gateways of the darkness at her frail touch 'gan to yield,
That I promised on her death-bed that my mother and I would take
Her small darling child, and rear it with all kindness for her sake.
And the gateways of the darkness at her frail touch 'gan to yield,
That I promised on her death-bed that my mother and I would take
Her small darling child, and rear it with all kindness for her sake.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |