The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
142
IV.
SWEET DEATH
Sweet Death that hast the golden-coloured wings,
Thou art not very far from any one,—
And it may be before to-morrow's sun
New warmth to the glad laughing green earth brings,
Filling bright trees with many a throat that sings,
A calm abode of peace may be begun
For me, whereover soon shall climb and run
The robe that o'er the dead soft Nature flings.
Thou art not very far from any one,—
And it may be before to-morrow's sun
New warmth to the glad laughing green earth brings,
Filling bright trees with many a throat that sings,
A calm abode of peace may be begun
For me, whereover soon shall climb and run
The robe that o'er the dead soft Nature flings.
And it may be that I shall be aware
Of some old music, some forgotten tale,
Some delicate old trembling in the air:
And it may be that I shall rise and sail
Majestic on the beats of pinions fair,
Clothed valiantly in an immortal mail.
Of some old music, some forgotten tale,
Some delicate old trembling in the air:
And it may be that I shall rise and sail
Majestic on the beats of pinions fair,
Clothed valiantly in an immortal mail.
1871.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |