The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | VIII. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
100
XCII. I AM CONTENT
I am content; I twine thy deep dark hair
With August flowers: the meadow-sweet I bring
That long ago in sorrow I did sing,
Ere love renewed for me his music fair.
Thou passest through me like some viewless air
Of summer, touching with thy fragrant wing
My lips and eyes: white blossoms round thee cling,
Whiter than e'en our snowiest May can bear.
With August flowers: the meadow-sweet I bring
That long ago in sorrow I did sing,
Ere love renewed for me his music fair.
Thou passest through me like some viewless air
Of summer, touching with thy fragrant wing
My lips and eyes: white blossoms round thee cling,
Whiter than e'en our snowiest May can bear.
The marvellous perfume of the old lost dream
Again pervades me; once again some flower
Ne'er known on earth, but whose white petals gleam
Perhaps in some redolent angelic bower,
Wraps me in speechless scent,—and, as of old,
Thy white arms, shuddering softly, round me fold.
Again pervades me; once again some flower
Ne'er known on earth, but whose white petals gleam
Perhaps in some redolent angelic bower,
Wraps me in speechless scent,—and, as of old,
Thy white arms, shuddering softly, round me fold.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |