The Poetical Works of George Barlow :: :: University of Virginia Library

But the morning came resplendent—when the summer night was done
All the sea flashed laughing answer to the first kiss of the sun,
And my soul flashed laughing answer to the thought that in it lay:
All my past life had been darkness—Now at last triumphant day!

Now at last sunrise immortal! As I gazed across the waves
Leaping, smiling, snowy-crested, could one dream that they were graves?
Never! Where was thought of shipwreck? Surely shipwreck could be none
In a world where such blue waters laughed beneath so bright a sun!

188

All was peace and all was beauty. Could I dream that love was wrong
Listening, as my whole soul listened, to the bright waves' morning song?
Was not passion in the sunlight, was not passion in the sea?
Was not passion too in God's heart, doubtless, from eternity?

Had some souls perchance made shipwreck through their passion, so 'twas said?
Yet behold the flood of sunlight flashing down on Beachy Head!
Beachy Head had seen its wreckage: Beachy Head that summer morn
Laughed the very thought of shipwreck 'neath its high white cliffs to scorn.

No: there never had been shipwreck—it was but a dream of pain,
And there never could be shipwreck on this sapphire sea again;—
Never wreck of any vessel, or of any soul should be,
For God vowed it through the sunlight, and he promised through the sea.

189

All the universe was passion; all the universe proclaimed
The pure glory of love for ever, with a million tongues unshamed:
Every flower on earth proclaimed it, every wave upon the deep;
Would God plant love's golden cornfield, then forbid man's hand to reap?

Annie—yes, my love for Annie was one verse, one radiant line,
Of the universal poem written by the hand divine:
I could add one perfect stanza to the world's vast hymn of praise;
Though the ages' joy was in it, I could add one summer day's!

I could write one passionate lyric, one small song, if heaven should please,
Though the Epics were Jehovah's and the vast Odes were the sea's;
Though the sweetest tenderest poems bore God's signature, 'tis true,
Yet I, loving past expression, could strike out some music too.

190

So my soul won liberation: as the sun climbed higher I saw
All my future stretched before me with a throbbing sense of awe;
All our future—yes, our future—for my life and hers were one,—
So God promised through the bright sea, and he sware it by the sun.

What it many a soul, defeated, down had sunk beside the way?
She and I would be victorious! love at last should have its day!
Were a thousand women traitors, yet one woman (sang the sea)
Would be loyal and true for ever, and bring perfect love to me.

Yes, to-day creation started on its journey quite anew:
For the first time heaven was cloudless, and the sea was stainless blue.
Though a thousand women wavered, yet one woman (said the sun)
Through all life would follow bravely—and my Annie was that one.

191

I would carry out my purpose now my heart had found repose,
Would not quit my sailor comrades till their summer journey's close:
I would watch them at their fishing; I would preach (with what a force!)
I would let all things that summer take their old unaltered course.

Then when they were leaving Whitby, sailing South and sailing West
In the first days of the autumn, I would travel with the rest:
When the summer was quite over, then my summer should begin;
I sailed North to lose a life's love—I would Southward sail to win.

I would Southward sail to win her. Oh, my darling, waiting there,
Far in dear old magic Cornwall, joy is sometimes hard to bear!
I should find her as I left her, hear her sing that old sweet song;
Tell her—tell her how I loved her—though she knew it all along.