The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
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| IV. |
| V. |
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| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
82
V. LOVE, THE TEACHER
Not by standing at their graves and weeping
Win we audience of the ghostly throng:
Those we left beneath the green grass sleeping
Need not tears it may be, only song.
Win we audience of the ghostly throng:
Those we left beneath the green grass sleeping
Need not tears it may be, only song.
Not by ceaseless groans and bitter anguish
Shall we reach their hearts and bring them nigh:
Not by wringing idle hands that languish;
Not by watching starless wastes of sky.
Shall we reach their hearts and bring them nigh:
Not by wringing idle hands that languish;
Not by watching starless wastes of sky.
Where the strong sun gilds the morning mountains,
Where the ceaseless crystal waters leap
Laughing from the depths of rainbow fountains,
There are those we left alone, asleep.
Where the ceaseless crystal waters leap
Laughing from the depths of rainbow fountains,
There are those we left alone, asleep.
Death may claim, and for one moment blinds them—
As he blinds us with his sudden hand.
Then the unconquered glance of morning finds them,
As it finds the slumbering sea and land.
As he blinds us with his sudden hand.
Then the unconquered glance of morning finds them,
As it finds the slumbering sea and land.
83
Morning finds, and with sweet violence wakes them,
Pointing towards the red lips of the day.
Towards the embraces of the noon it takes them,
Bidding suffering's wan signs pass away.
Pointing towards the red lips of the day.
Towards the embraces of the noon it takes them,
Bidding suffering's wan signs pass away.
Clearly 'tis so. How did I discern it?
Deem no sunset burns with wasted gold?
By one road the singer's heart may learn it;
From the lips of woman, as of old.
Deem no sunset burns with wasted gold?
By one road the singer's heart may learn it;
From the lips of woman, as of old.
By sweet love within his soul renewing
All the strength that vanished when a tomb
Closed against his maddened step pursuing
Sunless doors of iron, gates of gloom.
All the strength that vanished when a tomb
Closed against his maddened step pursuing
Sunless doors of iron, gates of gloom.
By the knowledge, daily stronger growing,
That the love of woman hath no end:
By hope's fountain from the dark rock flowing
Through the love and sweet help of a friend.
That the love of woman hath no end:
By hope's fountain from the dark rock flowing
Through the love and sweet help of a friend.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |