The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| II. |
| III. |
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| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
224
MY ROSE OF THE VALLEY
Wilt thou, my Rose o' the valley, my divineSweet tender soft-lipped quiet valley-rose,
Around thy brows for wreaths the high mists twine,
And with me pierce the fathomless far snows,
Testing a land no previous lover knows?
Yea, shall we leave the trodden lower valleys
And towards the land the rising sun-flame shows
Turn sure swift steps, and thread its icy alleys,
And brave the passes whence the north wind sallies
With pure delicious cold untrammelled breath,
Where with the mountain-peaks his brides he dallies,
Whose kissing lips to mortal brides are death.
Yea, shall I kiss thee with the north wind's mouth,
Rather than amorous dull lips of the south?
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |