The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | VI. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
|
|
|
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
267
SONNET I
THE WRESTLE
I sometimes think that whoso loveth thee
Must wrestle with the stormy Infinite
As Jacob wrestled with the awful might
Of God, until his flesh failed visibly.
For lo! before me stretches such a sea
Of pain and labour where the billows white
Float on a background of terrific night
That my heart shudders often, woe is me!—
Must wrestle with the stormy Infinite
As Jacob wrestled with the awful might
Of God, until his flesh failed visibly.
For lo! before me stretches such a sea
Of pain and labour where the billows white
Float on a background of terrific night
That my heart shudders often, woe is me!—
Dread are the barriers looming on the road.
Strange wastes before me trackless and untrod
Where never star hath shone nor blossom glowed
Stretch. These my feet must traverse, sorrow-shod.—
Red is the harvest whose white seed Love sowed.
Who would love thee must measure strength with God.
Strange wastes before me trackless and untrod
Where never star hath shone nor blossom glowed
Stretch. These my feet must traverse, sorrow-shod.—
Red is the harvest whose white seed Love sowed.
Who would love thee must measure strength with God.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |