The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
SONNET XXXII
“THOUGH HALF MY HEART BE GREEK”
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| XXXIV. |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
192
SONNET XXXII
“THOUGH HALF MY HEART BE GREEK”
Though half my heart be Greek, and Venus fill
My soul with rapture of her face and wings,
Yet this grey misty land my spirit sings
Not less,—yea, every English green-browed hill
And white-plumed golden-watered dancing rill:—
Each daffodilly yellowing our springs
Round me a robe of blossom-witchery flings;
Each English rose of my soul hath her will.
My soul with rapture of her face and wings,
Yet this grey misty land my spirit sings
Not less,—yea, every English green-browed hill
And white-plumed golden-watered dancing rill:—
Each daffodilly yellowing our springs
Round me a robe of blossom-witchery flings;
Each English rose of my soul hath her will.
Our blossoms crown me, and our rain-dark skies
Are dear,—and London, wherein I was born,
Is more than Athens fervent with the morn:—
Our turrets strike the clouds in statelier wise
Than those that towards the cloudless blue air rise,
Based on the blue seas of the Golden Horn.
Are dear,—and London, wherein I was born,
Is more than Athens fervent with the morn:—
Our turrets strike the clouds in statelier wise
Than those that towards the cloudless blue air rise,
Based on the blue seas of the Golden Horn.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |