The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | X. |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
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| X. |
| XI. |
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| XIII. |
| XIV. |
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| XVI. |
SONNET XVI
“THE DREAM DIVINE” |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
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SONNET XVI
“THE DREAM DIVINE”
I sometimes feel as if the dream divine
Of what fair Woman on this earth might be,
A dream that ever with sweet touch gladdened me
In the old days when youth and hope were mine,
A dream that met me in the soft starshine
Of even, or morn's sunlight o'er the sea,—
I sometimes feel that, if this dream must flee,
Distorted, baffled, is strong Love's design.
Of what fair Woman on this earth might be,
A dream that ever with sweet touch gladdened me
In the old days when youth and hope were mine,
A dream that met me in the soft starshine
Of even, or morn's sunlight o'er the sea,—
I sometimes feel that, if this dream must flee,
Distorted, baffled, is strong Love's design.
If England fails the dream to realize,—
If some pure Angel stooping from bright air
Met no response within dull human eyes,—
If back we have driven towards golden sunset-skies
Her who had made for man the whole world fair,
Death waits in front: behind us Paradise.
If some pure Angel stooping from bright air
Met no response within dull human eyes,—
If back we have driven towards golden sunset-skies
Her who had made for man the whole world fair,
Death waits in front: behind us Paradise.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |