The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
90
FROM ETERNITY TO ETERNITY
O weird pale pitiless stars, so wan and cold,
Planets that knew no youth, yet are not old,
Ye watch with deathless eyes
Our death-filled years,our bitter days and hours:
Yet are ye heartless,—just mere golden flowers
Crowding the purple skies?
Planets that knew no youth, yet are not old,
Ye watch with deathless eyes
Our death-filled years,our bitter days and hours:
Yet are ye heartless,—just mere golden flowers
Crowding the purple skies?
O strong strange stars that glitter through the night,
Are ye all speechless? Are your eyes so bright,
Yet do they never weep?
Are mortal agonies mere passing gleams
That flash across the darkness of your dreams
But never break your sleep?
Are ye all speechless? Are your eyes so bright,
Yet do they never weep?
Are mortal agonies mere passing gleams
That flash across the darkness of your dreams
But never break your sleep?
Out of the far eternity ye came:
Into the far eternity ye flame:
Our time-realm lies between
The twin eternities that ye can hold
Fast linked in your slight chains of glittering gold,
Joined by your fitful sheen.
Into the far eternity ye flame:
Our time-realm lies between
The twin eternities that ye can hold
Fast linked in your slight chains of glittering gold,
Joined by your fitful sheen.
91
Between your twain eternities are we;
We and our surging lives, our tossing sea
Of human strife and care.
But ye—long ere the earliest race began,
Long ere the moulding God first fashioned man,
Your lamps flashed through the air.
We and our surging lives, our tossing sea
Of human strife and care.
But ye—long ere the earliest race began,
Long ere the moulding God first fashioned man,
Your lamps flashed through the air.
Before one woman's soft eyes thrilled the light
Of far-off morning, ye, star-eyes, were bright,
Bright as in this our day.
Ere children's voices sounded 'mid the trees,
Ye heard the rustling melancholy breeze
Wail, on its lonely way.
Of far-off morning, ye, star-eyes, were bright,
Bright as in this our day.
Ere children's voices sounded 'mid the trees,
Ye heard the rustling melancholy breeze
Wail, on its lonely way.
Ye shine to-night on England; and when she
Sleeps, silenced in the dim futurity,
Past rapture or desire,
Still will ye gaze from heaven,—unchanged, as bright
As when the darkness of the primal night
Leaped at your touch to fire.
Sleeps, silenced in the dim futurity,
Past rapture or desire,
Still will ye gaze from heaven,—unchanged, as bright
As when the darkness of the primal night
Leaped at your touch to fire.
1886.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |