The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| XV. |
SONNET XV
“WHERE RUSKIN DREAMED” |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
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SONNET XV
“WHERE RUSKIN DREAMED”
Where Ruskin dreamed, where Southey and Wordsworth sung,
Hear now the strange hoot of the motor-car!
Among the mountains, watched by star on star,
Hills unto which the arms of white clouds clung
Soft and divine, what maddening sounds have rung!
What foul petroleum-fumes stream forth and mar
Morn's fragrance where morn's countless blossoms are,
Or were,—in days when England's soul was young.
Hear now the strange hoot of the motor-car!
Among the mountains, watched by star on star,
Hills unto which the arms of white clouds clung
Soft and divine, what maddening sounds have rung!
What foul petroleum-fumes stream forth and mar
Morn's fragrance where morn's countless blossoms are,
Or were,—in days when England's soul was young.
Had Ruskin marked these conquests fully achieved,
His mountain-paths profaned by poisonous smoke,—
Had Wordsworth's woodlands such defilement known,—
How would their great pure passionate hearts have grieved!
As, humble, I grieve to see my City invoke
New gods, and quit for ever her timeless throne.
His mountain-paths profaned by poisonous smoke,—
Had Wordsworth's woodlands such defilement known,—
How would their great pure passionate hearts have grieved!
As, humble, I grieve to see my City invoke
New gods, and quit for ever her timeless throne.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |