The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | VII. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
239
THOU WAST A BLOSSOM
SONG
Thou wast a blossom by the deep
Still rivers that in heaven sleep;
Thou wast a white bud then:
Thou camest forth to fling thine arms
And all thy flower-sweet countless charms
Around the hearts of men.
Still rivers that in heaven sleep;
Thou wast a white bud then:
Thou camest forth to fling thine arms
And all thy flower-sweet countless charms
Around the hearts of men.
Who loveth thee, he loves indeed
For many a year without love's meed,
For who can win a flower?
But when the sweet day comes, he takes
A bride more pure than bloom that shakes
Upon the bride's own bower.
For many a year without love's meed,
For who can win a flower?
But when the sweet day comes, he takes
A bride more pure than bloom that shakes
Upon the bride's own bower.
240
As soft as blossoms in the breeze,
Her soft white unclothed form he sees,
Her fragrant inmost soul;
And while he folds about her wings
Triumphant, all his spirit sings,
Touching love's kingliest goal.
Her soft white unclothed form he sees,
Her fragrant inmost soul;
And while he folds about her wings
Triumphant, all his spirit sings,
Touching love's kingliest goal.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |