The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
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| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XC. |
| XCI. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII. |
| XCIV. |
| XCV. |
| XCVI. |
| XCVII. |
| XCVIII. |
| XCIX. |
| C. |
| CI. |
| CII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
135
XIX.
REAL JOYS
No vision, sweet but formless, shall be mine:
No vision, pale and bloodless, in the end.
Thine own bright soul the Lord of Love shall send
With mine own spirit to mingle and combine,
Forming one spirit imperishable, divine,
Serene, superb, ecstatic. Friend from friend
Must sever,—but our wedded hearts shall blend
Till all my thoughts and hopes are one with thine.
No vision, pale and bloodless, in the end.
Thine own bright soul the Lord of Love shall send
With mine own spirit to mingle and combine,
Forming one spirit imperishable, divine,
Serene, superb, ecstatic. Friend from friend
Must sever,—but our wedded hearts shall blend
Till all my thoughts and hopes are one with thine.
The real undreamed-of joys of thine embrace,
And all the glory of thy passionate face,
I then shall win: and pass beyond regret.
I tarry for that ultimate high grace
Which round me robes of victory shall place,
And on my forehead starry triumph set.
And all the glory of thy passionate face,
I then shall win: and pass beyond regret.
I tarry for that ultimate high grace
Which round me robes of victory shall place,
And on my forehead starry triumph set.
1876.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |