Poems Real and Ideal By George Barlow |
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| XIV. |
| XVII. |
| XIX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
 | XLIV, XLV, XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| LI. |
SONNET LI.
FORGOTTEN JESUS. |
| LIV. |
| LVII. |
| LIX. |
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 | Poems Real and Ideal |  |
92
SONNET LI. FORGOTTEN JESUS.
I stood beside the Galilean Lake
And what was left of Jesus?—Bright and blue
Just as in the old days they used to do
The ripples laughed, and soft mist flake on flake
Brooded above the rushes in the brake,—
Yet every human face I met was new:—
Ah me! The world has never yet been true
For any woman's love or hero's sake!
And what was left of Jesus?—Bright and blue
Just as in the old days they used to do
The ripples laughed, and soft mist flake on flake
Brooded above the rushes in the brake,—
Yet every human face I met was new:—
Ah me! The world has never yet been true
For any woman's love or hero's sake!
Christ was forgotten of the hills and skies!—
New fishermen their brown nets dragged and flung
Within the waters,—and their chants they sung
Towards other dark-skinned maidens' answering eyes
Than those who in the far-off summers hung
On Jesus' lips, and harkened to his sighs.
New fishermen their brown nets dragged and flung
Within the waters,—and their chants they sung
Towards other dark-skinned maidens' answering eyes
Than those who in the far-off summers hung
On Jesus' lips, and harkened to his sighs.
| Poems Real and Ideal | |