The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. | VIII.
“IT IS NOT ANGER”
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
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| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
204
VIII.
“IT IS NOT ANGER”
It is not anger; couldst thou see it so.—
It is not anger,—but the intense desire
That burns for ever in me like white fire
At last thy soul—a spotless soul—to know.
The inward awful inarticulate glow
Of passion that, in measure, through my lyre
Sounds,—that would lift thee high and ever higher
Towards summits robed in majesty of snow.
It is not anger,—but the intense desire
That burns for ever in me like white fire
At last thy soul—a spotless soul—to know.
The inward awful inarticulate glow
Of passion that, in measure, through my lyre
Sounds,—that would lift thee high and ever higher
Towards summits robed in majesty of snow.
This, this it is that sometimes sternly speaks
When thou art weak, and lingerest by the way.
God's mountains are before us, and the spray
Of ocean; tarry not by river-creeks:—
It is not anger, couldst thou this thing prove,—
But burning vast intolerable love.
When thou art weak, and lingerest by the way.
God's mountains are before us, and the spray
Of ocean; tarry not by river-creeks:—
It is not anger, couldst thou this thing prove,—
But burning vast intolerable love.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |