The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | IX. |
NEW SUMMERS
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| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
13
NEW SUMMERS
Just as the summer smote the deep
Of winter's awful frost-bound sleep,
And lo! the rivers ran,
And songs began;
As laughter sounded on the sea
And through the leaves of every tree,
And flowers, forgetting pain,
Kissed flowers again:
Of winter's awful frost-bound sleep,
And lo! the rivers ran,
And songs began;
As laughter sounded on the sea
And through the leaves of every tree,
And flowers, forgetting pain,
Kissed flowers again:
Just as new summer for the old
Clothed every barren heath with gold—
With raiment of bright furze
That crowns the hill-spurs;
Just as, e'en redder than before,
The roses round each cottage-door
Smiled, and the bell-flower blue
Of tenderer hue:
Clothed every barren heath with gold—
With raiment of bright furze
That crowns the hill-spurs;
Just as, e'en redder than before,
The roses round each cottage-door
Smiled, and the bell-flower blue
Of tenderer hue:
14
Just as our dreams of mist-winged weeks
Fly when the ardent summer streaks
The blazing skies with gold,
Grand as of old;
Just as our dark dreams flee away,
Our hatred of the skies grim-grey,
And all our hearts respond
To summer fond:
Fly when the ardent summer streaks
The blazing skies with gold,
Grand as of old;
Just as our dark dreams flee away,
Our hatred of the skies grim-grey,
And all our hearts respond
To summer fond:
Just so our fear that Love had fled
And that his rose-like face was dead
Is changed to laughter sweet
When Love we meet,
More beautiful for winter rest,
With summer plumage in his crest,
And in his hands the sprays
Of summer days.
And that his rose-like face was dead
Is changed to laughter sweet
When Love we meet,
More beautiful for winter rest,
With summer plumage in his crest,
And in his hands the sprays
Of summer days.
Has winter seized one love of ours?
New loves shall blossom with new flowers.
Loves fairer than of old
Thou shalt behold!
Loves more bewitching than the past
In summers new shall follow fast;
Eyes lovelier than the eyes
That lit past skies.
New loves shall blossom with new flowers.
Loves fairer than of old
Thou shalt behold!
15
In summers new shall follow fast;
Eyes lovelier than the eyes
That lit past skies.
Oh, wait for summer! Like a dream,
With hands that lure and eyes that gleam,
Some woman waits for thee
By moonlit sea:—
Hear how her laugh along the lone sand rings!
Mark her neck whiter than that sea-bird's wings!
Lo! summer brings her near:
Wait thou,—and have no fear.
With hands that lure and eyes that gleam,
Some woman waits for thee
By moonlit sea:—
Hear how her laugh along the lone sand rings!
Mark her neck whiter than that sea-bird's wings!
Lo! summer brings her near:
Wait thou,—and have no fear.
July 3, 1881.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |