An English Madonna By James Hinton [i.e. George Barlow] |
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DEDICATION.
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| II. |
| IV. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XVI. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XLIV. |
| LIV. |
| LXI. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII.. |
| XCVII. |
| XCVIII. |
 | An English Madonna |  |
xi
DEDICATION.
TO N. H.
For Christmas, New Year, birthday, all in one,
This book I bring to thee,—no fairy tale;
Only strong love that turns the spirit pale
Like flowers whose sweet hearts pale before the sun.
Look gently on my passionate long work done,
Eyes whose clear glances through the soul's rent mail
Dart arrowlike. From underneath your veil
Of dear black lashes let one tear-drop run!
This book I bring to thee,—no fairy tale;
Only strong love that turns the spirit pale
Like flowers whose sweet hearts pale before the sun.
Look gently on my passionate long work done,
Eyes whose clear glances through the soul's rent mail
Dart arrowlike. From underneath your veil
Of dear black lashes let one tear-drop run!
One tear to answer love that knows no bound!
Well, that is something. And be sure of this
O sweetest eyes that poet ever found,
That unto me it has been speechless bliss
To know, the while I wrote, what eyes would see
Within this song the very soul of me.
Well, that is something. And be sure of this
O sweetest eyes that poet ever found,
That unto me it has been speechless bliss
To know, the while I wrote, what eyes would see
Within this song the very soul of me.
Nov. 30, 1883.
| An English Madonna | |