The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
215
THINE ENGLISH EYES
Thine English eyes are sweeter than the day,
More beautiful than light at early morn,
Tenderer than stars, or than the tender grey
Of even when the moon's slow car is borne
Upward by grey far propping waves forlorn:
Not Beatrice, in Italy the queenly,
Flashed love, or mirth, or summer-lightning scorn,
So sweetly, or so roselike and serenely.
More beautiful than light at early morn,
Tenderer than stars, or than the tender grey
Of even when the moon's slow car is borne
Upward by grey far propping waves forlorn:
Not Beatrice, in Italy the queenly,
Flashed love, or mirth, or summer-lightning scorn,
So sweetly, or so roselike and serenely.
The English breezes crowned thy young fair head,
And kissed thy lips, and made them roses red:
The English meadow-sweet purloined thy breath,
Blossomed immortal then, and laughed at death:
An English poet loves thee, and his hand
Crowns thee queen over queens in lyric land.
And kissed thy lips, and made them roses red:
The English meadow-sweet purloined thy breath,
Blossomed immortal then, and laughed at death:
An English poet loves thee, and his hand
Crowns thee queen over queens in lyric land.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |