The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
The Poetical Works of George Barlow | ||
14
LOVE
Though all the blossoms perish, and the seas
Turn grey at anger of the evening breeze:
Though souls grow weary, and faint hearts turn pale:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
Turn grey at anger of the evening breeze:
Though souls grow weary, and faint hearts turn pale:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
Though men be mad with yearning unexpressed
And not the farthest hill-top yields us rest:
Though over endless heartless seas we sail:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
And not the farthest hill-top yields us rest:
Though over endless heartless seas we sail:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
Though dreams of youth with weary hearts and eyes
Melt beyond mists of morn and sunset skies:
Though every hope we cherished seems to fail:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
Melt beyond mists of morn and sunset skies:
Though every hope we cherished seems to fail:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
Though all the deepening glory of vernal green
Shall soon be but a garment that has been,
Yet trees and blossoms cry, while wild winds wail,
“Love hath avail, love hath avail!”
Shall soon be but a garment that has been,
Yet trees and blossoms cry, while wild winds wail,
“Love hath avail, love hath avail!”
15
The love that mixes with the heart divine
As the stars seek the waves wherein they shine:
Whose wings control the loud ship-shattering gale:
This hath avail, this hath avail!
As the stars seek the waves wherein they shine:
Whose wings control the loud ship-shattering gale:
This hath avail, this hath avail!
The love that nought can dim nor turn aside,
High as the sun and as the sweet sea wide:
The love that deepens when time's swords assail:
This hath avail, this hath avail!
High as the sun and as the sweet sea wide:
The love that deepens when time's swords assail:
This hath avail, this hath avail!
The love beyond all words, beyond all creeds,
Pierced till it faints and wounded till it bleeds:
With thorns on brow, through either hand a nail:
This hath avail, this hath avail!
Pierced till it faints and wounded till it bleeds:
With thorns on brow, through either hand a nail:
This hath avail, this hath avail!
O men that struggle towards the far dim light,
Love hath the seas' pent force, the mountains' might:
Feet shod with love the blue heavens' summits scale:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
Love hath the seas' pent force, the mountains' might:
Feet shod with love the blue heavens' summits scale:
Love hath avail, love hath avail!
The Poetical Works of George Barlow | ||