The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
21
XIX.
MY WORK
Have I left out a flower, or a shade
Of colour on the wind-swept changing grass?
Has any tint of sunset seemed to pass
Into the silence of a thing unsaid?
Or have I failed to count each single braid
As you might, sweet, before your looking-glass?
Each sigh, each leaf, each fleeting cloud, alas!
Deep in abysses of my memory laid,
Is present with me—have I told them all?
Good: then my work is over, and I may
Lean head upon the table, and let fall
The pen that had so many things to say:
Each second of a summer to portray;
All your forgotten glances to recall.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |