An English Madonna By James Hinton [i.e. George Barlow] |
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| II. |
| IV. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XVI. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XLIV. |
| LIV. |
| LXI. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXXII. |
LXXXII.
THE VINE AND THE OAK.
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| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII.. |
| XCVII. |
| XCVIII. |
 | An English Madonna |  |
114
LXXXII. THE VINE AND THE OAK.
Yet how canst thou, O gentle girlish soul,
Quite comprehend the larger soul of me?
Can the white sea-bird apprehend the sea,
Or the soft lute the far-off thunder's roll?
Some love thou mayest grasp, but not the whole.
Still I would wish my heart of love for thee
With all its joy and deep solemnity
To reach in some degree thy mind's clear goal.
Quite comprehend the larger soul of me?
Can the white sea-bird apprehend the sea,
Or the soft lute the far-off thunder's roll?
Some love thou mayest grasp, but not the whole.
Still I would wish my heart of love for thee
With all its joy and deep solemnity
To reach in some degree thy mind's clear goal.
“Pain I have had; and deeper pain than thine.”
So to the fir-tree smitten by the stroke
Of heaven's red lightning the soft rose-bush spoke:
And why? Because the sun had ceased to shine!
So wept, for one slight shower, the tender vine
To the storm-sundered storm-defiant oak!—
So to the fir-tree smitten by the stroke
Of heaven's red lightning the soft rose-bush spoke:
And why? Because the sun had ceased to shine!
So wept, for one slight shower, the tender vine
To the storm-sundered storm-defiant oak!—
| An English Madonna | |