The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
Well the years sped on in Cornwall, but I'll pass those swift years by;
Nothing varied the vast calmness of the expanse of sea and sky.
All the love in me was softened into fatherhood again:
Ah, the love in man enables Fate to inflict the endless pain!
Nothing varied the vast calmness of the expanse of sea and sky.
All the love in me was softened into fatherhood again:
Ah, the love in man enables Fate to inflict the endless pain!
229
All went on in steady sequence—that is how the days depart
When Fate lurks behind the sunshine with new dark deeds in his heart:
Just the same they seem to pass us, smiling, sun-kissed, every one;
But Fate, black-browed, thunder-wielding, stands alert behind the sun.
When Fate lurks behind the sunshine with new dark deeds in his heart:
Just the same they seem to pass us, smiling, sun-kissed, every one;
But Fate, black-browed, thunder-wielding, stands alert behind the sun.
—So in summer when the ocean with its soft voice to the land
Sings its love-song, sings so gently, he whose heart can understand,
Versed in all the ways of Nature, still within the sound can hear
Something of its wintry storm-voice, when its wild wrath stuns the ear.
Sings its love-song, sings so gently, he whose heart can understand,
Versed in all the ways of Nature, still within the sound can hear
Something of its wintry storm-voice, when its wild wrath stuns the ear.
For the one same sea in summer to the listening sunlit shore
Says with voice as of a lover, “Lo, I love you, I adore!”
And in winter to the cliff-sides, ribbed with granite though they be,
“Lo, I hate you—ye shall perish from the pathway of the sea!”
Says with voice as of a lover, “Lo, I love you, I adore!”
And in winter to the cliff-sides, ribbed with granite though they be,
“Lo, I hate you—ye shall perish from the pathway of the sea!”
230
Fate arose at last: a letter in the old handwriting came—
How the light of coming evil flashed across my eyes like flame!
Half I broke it open—waited—tore the envelope once more—
Trembled then again and waited—till I read it on the shore.
How the light of coming evil flashed across my eyes like flame!
Half I broke it open—waited—tore the envelope once more—
Trembled then again and waited—till I read it on the shore.
She was dying, said the letter, dying in London all alone—
Would I come once more and see her? (Would a mother leave her own?)
So once more I journeyed townward, took the route I knew so well;
Left the quiet sea behind me, entered London—entered hell.
Would I come once more and see her? (Would a mother leave her own?)
So once more I journeyed townward, took the route I knew so well;
Left the quiet sea behind me, entered London—entered hell.
Not the same as when I left it was the once well-furnished room:
All to-day was desolation, all was emptiness and gloom.
No silk curtains to the bed-posts, not a picture now was there;
Just a bed—a dying woman—a white ghost with raven hair!
All to-day was desolation, all was emptiness and gloom.
No silk curtains to the bed-posts, not a picture now was there;
Just a bed—a dying woman—a white ghost with raven hair!
231
Yes, the fairy guards were waiting, far away in fairy-land,
But the fairy queen lay dying in a bed-room off the Strand.
Not again in fairy regions would her golden sceptre wave:
She was just a poor lost woman, five days' journey from her grave!
But the fairy queen lay dying in a bed-room off the Strand.
Not again in fairy regions would her golden sceptre wave:
She was just a poor lost woman, five days' journey from her grave!
He had left her in man's fashion, wearied when the prize was gained:
Of the wedding-robes of passion not a worn-out shred remained!
—Left her all alone in London, with the one vile bitter word
“Earn your living, you are young yet;” was there any Christ who heard?
Of the wedding-robes of passion not a worn-out shred remained!
—Left her all alone in London, with the one vile bitter word
“Earn your living, you are young yet;” was there any Christ who heard?
Was there any Christ, I wonder, who had seen the whole thing done,
Seen the girl's heart grow to woman's, seen the woman lightly won,
Watched at night within the bed-room, seen the man come, then depart,
Any Christ—we'll grant his godhead—but with manhood in his heart?
Seen the girl's heart grow to woman's, seen the woman lightly won,
Watched at night within the bed-room, seen the man come, then depart,
Any Christ—we'll grant his godhead—but with manhood in his heart?
232
Was there any Christ who knew it, all the lies the man had told,
All the lying talk of marriage—who had seen the ring of gold,
Just the saddest of all tokens, worn to shirk the social ban,
Worn to link her to her sisters, not to link her to the man?
All the lying talk of marriage—who had seen the ring of gold,
Just the saddest of all tokens, worn to shirk the social ban,
Worn to link her to her sisters, not to link her to the man?
Was there any Christ who knew it and whose pure true heart contained
All a strong man's mightiest passion, all a strong God's anger chained?
Any Christ whose deep love blended in its vast and complex whole
All the pity in man's deep nature, all the love in woman's soul?
All a strong man's mightiest passion, all a strong God's anger chained?
Any Christ whose deep love blended in its vast and complex whole
All the pity in man's deep nature, all the love in woman's soul?
Was his pity quite exhausted? Was his healing power outworn?
Did he wear just for one season one ephemeral crown of thorn?
In Jerusalem he triumphed? When he rose from out the grave
Did he deem his work was over, that no souls were left to save?
Did he wear just for one season one ephemeral crown of thorn?
In Jerusalem he triumphed? When he rose from out the grave
Did he deem his work was over, that no souls were left to save?
233
Did he deem when man betrayed him that no Judas would arise
In the ages that he saw not, under Western sunless skies?
Did his soul foresee the horror that the years to come would bring?
Was he only for one moment just a pale apparent King?
In the ages that he saw not, under Western sunless skies?
Did his soul foresee the horror that the years to come would bring?
Was he only for one moment just a pale apparent King?
Was his kingship wholly vested in the moments that he spent
Here on earth with men and women, ere the Temple's veil was rent?
Could he face the sin of London? Could he see our streets by night
Yet retain his stormless splendour, and his crown's imperial light?
Here on earth with men and women, ere the Temple's veil was rent?
Could he face the sin of London? Could he see our streets by night
Yet retain his stormless splendour, and his crown's imperial light?
Could he bear to see our city—could he know the evil done
Every hour, yes every moment, when the gaslights drown the sun?
Every night some woman ruined, every night some base seeds sown
For whose harvests of fierce evil not God's whole blood could atone!
Every hour, yes every moment, when the gaslights drown the sun?
Every night some woman ruined, every night some base seeds sown
For whose harvests of fierce evil not God's whole blood could atone!
234
Had he seen this woman ruined? Had he followed Annie's life?
Would he not now track the villain, hunt him down with dagger or knife?
Would he not proclaim God's justice—if a God indeed there be—
God's eternal hate of evil, God's unsullied majesty?
Would he not now track the villain, hunt him down with dagger or knife?
Would he not proclaim God's justice—if a God indeed there be—
God's eternal hate of evil, God's unsullied majesty?
—So the thoughts in swift wild sequence flew with frenzy through my brain
As I saw the dying woman, heard her speak yet once again,
Heard her tell with broken accents all her story of despair;
Then my whole soul cried out Godward as I watched her lying there,
As I saw the dying woman, heard her speak yet once again,
Heard her tell with broken accents all her story of despair;
Then my whole soul cried out Godward as I watched her lying there,
Cried out heavenward: “If the mountains or the lurid storm-clouds hold
Any strong God, a Jehovah, as the peoples deemed of old,
If there be a God of anger, past the anger of the sea,
And behind the love of Jesus, noble wrath's intensity;
Any strong God, a Jehovah, as the peoples deemed of old,
If there be a God of anger, past the anger of the sea,
And behind the love of Jesus, noble wrath's intensity;
235
“If there be within the thunder still a living God more strong,
If the lightning's sword be his sword, if his soul detests the wrong,
If the righteous power of judgment yet within some God remains,
If he be not blind for ever, if his sceptre he retains;
If the lightning's sword be his sword, if his soul detests the wrong,
If the righteous power of judgment yet within some God remains,
If he be not blind for ever, if his sceptre he retains;
“If he be not weak or slothful, be not sunk in lethargy,
Let him mark this London death-bed, let him gaze from heaven and see:
Let him stay no longer dallying with his minor toils on high,
Let him stoop to us in London, let him quit the starry sky;
Let him mark this London death-bed, let him gaze from heaven and see:
Let him stay no longer dallying with his minor toils on high,
Let him stoop to us in London, let him quit the starry sky;
“Let him rise up in his anger—as they say of old he rose—
Let his sword leap from the scabbard, on the hilt his fingers close;
Let him carry out my curse now, carry it out by day, by night,
Let the living God do justice, let the Lord God hear and smite;
Let his sword leap from the scabbard, on the hilt his fingers close;
Let him carry out my curse now, carry it out by day, by night,
Let the living God do justice, let the Lord God hear and smite;
“Let the living God do justice, let the living God proclaim
Once again his deathless glory, and the greatness of his name;
Let him follow with his vengeance this one man, where'er he be—
Let my soul's curse light upon him, let it traverse land and sea;
Once again his deathless glory, and the greatness of his name;
236
Let my soul's curse light upon him, let it traverse land and sea;
“If he scale the lofty mountains, let my curse, God, still be there;
Let it peal within the thunder, let it sound through sunlit air;
Let it follow him all his lifetime, let it ring his earthly knell,
Let it follow him to the graveyard, let it haunt his steps in hell.”
Let it peal within the thunder, let it sound through sunlit air;
Let it follow him all his lifetime, let it ring his earthly knell,
Let it follow him to the graveyard, let it haunt his steps in hell.”
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |