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Poems Real and Ideal

By George Barlow

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I. TO-NIGHT.

To-night I claim thee, lady—claim thy soul.
Give all thou canst with lavish hands away,
All that I covet, suffer for, will stay—
Far, far it is even out of thy control.
Now on the closing of thy marriage-day
As it were, I come to thee, and would unveil
With tender solemn speed thy beauty pale,
And gaze deep in thine eyes of marvellous grey.
Deep, deep, and ever deeper I would gaze,
Till on this evening of thy day of days
I draw thee forth, as from his very embrace:
Yea, strenuous arms of his shall tremble, and part,
Till, heeding not the prison where thou art,
I weeping, kiss thee on the weeping face.
April 27, 1876.