An English Madonna By James Hinton [i.e. George Barlow] |
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| II. |
| IV. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XVI. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
XXI.
“THIS TIME LAST YEAR.”
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| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XLIV. |
| LIV. |
| LXI. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII.. |
| XCVII. |
| XCVIII. |
 | An English Madonna |  |
27
XXI. “THIS TIME LAST YEAR.”
This time last year I knew thee not. But now
The heaven has opened, and thine eyes I meet.
I reach a height the view wherefrom is sweet.
I tread another august mountain-brow.—
God, when he moulds a planet, knows not how
The task will turn out, till it is complete:
He knows not what fair leagues of golden wheat
Or green grass will reward his labouring plough.
The heaven has opened, and thine eyes I meet.
I reach a height the view wherefrom is sweet.
I tread another august mountain-brow.—
God, when he moulds a planet, knows not how
The task will turn out, till it is complete:
He knows not what fair leagues of golden wheat
Or green grass will reward his labouring plough.
He knows not what long lanes of leaves and flowers
Wait all unseen, unsmelt, in front of him:
What new sweet planetary marvellous hours;
What golden eves, or pale-blue mornings dim:
What summer pools fed by white cataracts' showers
Where he may plunge each languid laughing limb.
Wait all unseen, unsmelt, in front of him:
What new sweet planetary marvellous hours;
What golden eves, or pale-blue mornings dim:
What summer pools fed by white cataracts' showers
Where he may plunge each languid laughing limb.
| An English Madonna | |