The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
23
XXI.
THE BIRD LOVERS
I.
“He that hath loved deserveth not to die.”
So thought I; and a sudden vision came
Of birds of splendour, crowned with crimson flame,
Wings touched with brilliance of the azure sky,
Breasts sapphire, throats of emerald, flying high
In the old forest-haunts without a name,—
The sweet green palaces that shone the same
Millions of centuries ere a man was nigh.
So thought I; and a sudden vision came
Of birds of splendour, crowned with crimson flame,
Wings touched with brilliance of the azure sky,
Breasts sapphire, throats of emerald, flying high
In the old forest-haunts without a name,—
The sweet green palaces that shone the same
Millions of centuries ere a man was nigh.
I saw them frolic through the leafy arches,
And a strange sense came over me that they,
Those two, that loved and laughed amid the larches,
And leaped with glittering feet from spray to spray,
Being in the secret, had my right to stay—
Yet stayed not—Death's indomitable marches.
And a strange sense came over me that they,
Those two, that loved and laughed amid the larches,
And leaped with glittering feet from spray to spray,
Being in the secret, had my right to stay—
Yet stayed not—Death's indomitable marches.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |