The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | III. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
SONNET III
THE OLD VALLEY
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| X. |
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| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
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| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
163
SONNET III
THE OLD VALLEY
Ah! still the old waves upon the gold sand breaking
And still the old windy cliff-side and the sky
Unchanged from the old lost days when you and I
Clasped in sweet dreams too sweet and soft for waking
Wandered,—and watched the salt free sea-wind shaking
The tufted heads of clover and of grass.
Now what is left us, as towards death we pass?
Sorrow, and flowerless days, and lone heart-aching!
And still the old windy cliff-side and the sky
Unchanged from the old lost days when you and I
Clasped in sweet dreams too sweet and soft for waking
Wandered,—and watched the salt free sea-wind shaking
The tufted heads of clover and of grass.
Now what is left us, as towards death we pass?
Sorrow, and flowerless days, and lone heart-aching!
Ah! still the old valley,—and the fern leaves yonder
And all the clustered grace of meadow-sweet.
Doth never lightning traverse with red feet
These green fair glades? Are the black wings of thunder
Forbidden with hoarse rush the fronds to sunder,
That all is changeless still though we shall ne'er,
Unchanged, be there!
And all the clustered grace of meadow-sweet.
Doth never lightning traverse with red feet
These green fair glades? Are the black wings of thunder
Forbidden with hoarse rush the fronds to sunder,
That all is changeless still though we shall ne'er,
Unchanged, be there!
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |