An Actor's Reminiscences and Other Poems By George Barlow |
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| XXX. |
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| XXXIII. |
SONNET XXXIII.
RED DAWN.
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 | An Actor's Reminiscences and Other Poems |  |
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SONNET XXXIII. RED DAWN.
“Hark! is he sleeping?—Let the soft lips meet.
Who knows? the bright June morning may flame red,
Yea scarlet round about this white dim bed
Where all seems now so moon-caressed and sweet.
Ah! sweetheart, how thy tender heart doth beat!
Let me kiss every trembling pulse instead,
And kiss thy limbs,—kiss upward to thine head;
Thrice-rapturous are the night hours,—yet how fleet!
Who knows? the bright June morning may flame red,
Yea scarlet round about this white dim bed
Where all seems now so moon-caressed and sweet.
Ah! sweetheart, how thy tender heart doth beat!
Let me kiss every trembling pulse instead,
And kiss thy limbs,—kiss upward to thine head;
Thrice-rapturous are the night hours,—yet how fleet!
“Is that the morning at the window-pane?
Let the wild burning red lips cling once more!
Ha! the swift sudden sword-flash at the door:
Kiss me; I wait; do thou the garden gain”—
She would not leave him. That dark evil stain
Is where their hearts' blood fountained on the floor.
Let the wild burning red lips cling once more!
Ha! the swift sudden sword-flash at the door:
Kiss me; I wait; do thou the garden gain”—
She would not leave him. That dark evil stain
Is where their hearts' blood fountained on the floor.
| An Actor's Reminiscences and Other Poems | |