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Poems Real and Ideal

By George Barlow
Barlow, George

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[section]
  
DEDICATION. TO JOHN ALEXANDER BLENCOWE,
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MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS.
 XIV. 
SONNET XIV. TO IRELAND.
 XVII. 
SONNET XVII. THE GHOSTLY ARMIES.
 XIX. 
SONNET XIX. AN EASTERN YEARNING.
 XXI. 
SONNET XXI. GOD AND WOMAN.
 XXII. 
SONNET XXII. GOD.
 XXIII. 
SONNET XXIII. FORSAKEN.
 XXVII. 
SONNET XXVII. THE SONG-BRIDE.
 XXVIII. 
SONNET XXVIII. ALONE.
 XXIX. 
SONNET XXIX. RELIGION AND ART.
 XXX. 
SONNET XXX. IN ST. JAMES'S PARK.
collapse sectionXLIV, XLV, XLVI. 
SONNETS XLIV., XLV., XLVI. A MORAL VICTORY: AND ITS RESULT.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 XLVII. 
SONNET XLVII. ALL OVER AGAIN.
 LI. 
SONNET LI. FORGOTTEN JESUS.
 LIV. 
SONNET LIV. THE COQUETTE-WORLD.
 LVII. 
SONNET LVII. HEAVEN AND WOMAN.
 LIX. 
SONNET LIX. LOST RICHES.
  
SONNET. IN BOHEMIA: A CONTRAST.
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SONNETS.
 IV. 
IV. THE ONE STAR.
  
THY SPANISH LOVES.
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SEVEN SONNETS.
 II. 
II. CAPITAL PUNISHMENT.
 IV. 
IV. THE DAY OF THANKSGIVING: AFTER THE EGYPTIAN WAR OF 1882.
 VI. 
VI. FOR VICTOR HUGO'S EIGHTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1883.
 VII. 
VII. WILLIAM GOULDSTONE.
  
A WINTER VISION.
  
A WINTER SONG.
  
AND YET.
  
MIRROR AND ROSE.
  
THE KING.
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TWO SONNETS.
 I. 
I. TO-NIGHT.
 II. 
II. ALONE.
  
A RUSSIAN WOMAN TO A RUSSIAN NIHILIST.
  
POETRY AND SCIENCE.
  
SOPHIA PEROVSKAIA.
  
GELIABOFF.
  
IRELAND TO ENGLAND.
 XX. 
SONNET XX. “IT IS GOD WE NEED.”
 XXI. 
SONNET XXI. “AND YET WE STRETCH OUR ARMS OUT TO THE HUMAN.”
  
THE DEEP LOVE.
  
SONNET. CHRIST'S ETERNAL POETHOOD.
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AUTUMN VOICES:
 I. 
I. THE LATER LOVE.
 II. 
II. THE ETERNAL BOYHOOD.
 IX. 
IX. THE SOUL-GAME.
 XII. 
XII. THE SWEETEST LOVE.
 XXII. 
XXII. AT LAST.
  
SONNET. CHRIST'S LOVE.
  
A VISION OF THE DEAD.
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LOVE-LYRICS.
 I. 
I. AFTER LONG MONTHS.
 II. 
II. “THY FACE.”
 III. 
III. “BEYOND.”
 IV. 
IV. “NEVER TIRED?”
 V. 
V. IN THE LATER DAYS.

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91

SONNET XLVII. ALL OVER AGAIN.

A poet thought:—“Ah! to start quite afresh!
To die to the old passions and begin
In some new city a new life to win!
To break from every old entangling mesh!
No more 'mid London's rough discordant din
To love,—but in white Paris or in Rome
Or Venice—anywhere far off from home—
To gather a golden new love-harvest in!
“Oh, I could love”—he thought—“as though I ne'er
Had loved before,—within me doth remain
Limitless youth: I could meet woman's eyes
As a glad boy of fourteen meets June skies
Upon a holiday morning:—in the air
Of Italy I could love all over again!”
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