The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | VI. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
44
XXXVIII. THE NEXT KISS
I am not eager, having twice been bold
To stem the torrent of the stream of love,
Again to test those wavelets till, above,
The river is translated into gold.
Love is a bird too beautiful to hold
In any untransfigured earthly hand,
And sings the sweeter from the heavenly land
In that our feet are hidden in grasses cold.
To stem the torrent of the stream of love,
Again to test those wavelets till, above,
The river is translated into gold.
Love is a bird too beautiful to hold
In any untransfigured earthly hand,
And sings the sweeter from the heavenly land
In that our feet are hidden in grasses cold.
I am not eager, though the nights are long
And doleful, to renew love's magic thrill
And ancient tenderness of silver song,
For well I know that when I reach the hill
Towards which I journey firm of foot and strong,
Love's next apocalyptic kiss will kill.
And doleful, to renew love's magic thrill
And ancient tenderness of silver song,
For well I know that when I reach the hill
Towards which I journey firm of foot and strong,
Love's next apocalyptic kiss will kill.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |