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 |  |
161
SONNET I
THE FLOWER ASLEEP
I stood within the old wood,—and all the past
Swept through my spirit on wild storm-tossed wings:—
The past with all its pain and all its stings
And small sour fruit and endless yearning vast.
Upon white tides of woe my thought was cast,
'Mid shoals round which the hoarse sea-whisper rings:
I was immersed in floods of former things,
And my brow ached at strokes of passion's blast.
Swept through my spirit on wild storm-tossed wings:—
The past with all its pain and all its stings
And small sour fruit and endless yearning vast.
Upon white tides of woe my thought was cast,
'Mid shoals round which the hoarse sea-whisper rings:
I was immersed in floods of former things,
And my brow ached at strokes of passion's blast.
And then I looked, and lo! a flower asleep,—
The plant whose plumes I gathered long ago
To mix them in a girl's locks soft and deep.
Through seasons of fierce sun and months of snow,
While I full many a maddening watch did keep,
It had done nought but bloom, and fade and blow.
The plant whose plumes I gathered long ago
To mix them in a girl's locks soft and deep.
Through seasons of fierce sun and months of snow,
While I full many a maddening watch did keep,
It had done nought but bloom, and fade and blow.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |