The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
24
XXII.
THE BIRD LOVERS
II.
I could have wept to think that these sweet things
Had loved, not lived for ever; that the fire
That lit their eyes with the same soft desire
That stirs a poet's pulses as he sings,
And round the raiment of a sonnet clings,
And sweeps the fingers firm across the lyre,—
That such a flame should faint, subside, and tire,
When final sleep the ice-cold opiate brings.
Had loved, not lived for ever; that the fire
That lit their eyes with the same soft desire
That stirs a poet's pulses as he sings,
And round the raiment of a sonnet clings,
And sweeps the fingers firm across the lyre,—
That such a flame should faint, subside, and tire,
When final sleep the ice-cold opiate brings.
It ought not so to be; those birds should live
For ever, had I in my power the voice
To bid them blossom onward, and rejoice
In endless spiral ascent—I would give
To every soul Love's song-creating kiss,
Eternity in which to utter this!
For ever, had I in my power the voice
To bid them blossom onward, and rejoice
In endless spiral ascent—I would give
To every soul Love's song-creating kiss,
Eternity in which to utter this!
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |