The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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![]() | II. |
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![]() | IV. |
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![]() | VIII. |
![]() | IX. |
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I. |
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![]() | X. |
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![]() | The Poetical Works of George Barlow | ![]() |
113
I. THE GIFTS OF TIME
The gifts of Youth are passing fair:
Through many a soft spring day
Their tender fragrance scents the air,
But—then they pass away!
—Hope, dying ere its blossom glows:
Faith in the false world's truth:
Faith in the swiftly fading rose:—
These are the gifts of Youth.
Through many a soft spring day
Their tender fragrance scents the air,
But—then they pass away!
—Hope, dying ere its blossom glows:
Faith in the false world's truth:
Faith in the swiftly fading rose:—
These are the gifts of Youth.
But fairer are the gifts Love brings;
Is there one humble cot,
One palace of a thousand kings
Where star-crowned Love is not?
—A rapture passing earthly speech:
Light stolen from heaven above:
The power, it seems, that heaven to reach:—
These are the gifts of Love.
Is there one humble cot,
One palace of a thousand kings
Where star-crowned Love is not?
114
Light stolen from heaven above:
The power, it seems, that heaven to reach:—
These are the gifts of Love.
But yet one other figure waits:
In sunshine or in shade,
With eyes that meet and conquer Fate's,
It tarries undismayed.
—Life's harvests, bright on either hand:
Joy changeless, deep, sublime:
Peace filling all the golden land:—
These are the gifts of Time.
In sunshine or in shade,
With eyes that meet and conquer Fate's,
It tarries undismayed.
—Life's harvests, bright on either hand:
Joy changeless, deep, sublime:
Peace filling all the golden land:—
These are the gifts of Time.
![]() | The Poetical Works of George Barlow | ![]() |