The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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TWO SONNETS
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| IX. |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
51
TWO SONNETS
DEATH
I.
Death!—Shalt not thou reveal all things unseen,
And teach me why the roses faded quite,
And why a dawn that brake in golden light
Over blue Isis and far meadows green
Became so thunder-dark at noon, I ween!—
Death!—Thou shalt teach me why my lady bright
Fled with fleet steps till she was lost to sight,—
And sweet things were as if they had not been.
And teach me why the roses faded quite,
And why a dawn that brake in golden light
Over blue Isis and far meadows green
Became so thunder-dark at noon, I ween!—
Death!—Thou shalt teach me why my lady bright
Fled with fleet steps till she was lost to sight,—
And sweet things were as if they had not been.
Death! Surely thou hast life within thy hands.
Thou canst reveal the secret: thou canst pour
(It may be) the old light along the shore:
Thou canst disclose the numberless star-lands
When daylight fadeth. Lo! beside thee stands
My lost love, found,—and found for evermore.
Thou canst reveal the secret: thou canst pour
(It may be) the old light along the shore:
Thou canst disclose the numberless star-lands
When daylight fadeth. Lo! beside thee stands
My lost love, found,—and found for evermore.
52
DEATH
II.
Yes: this is the great crown of life,— to know
That death is nearer:—twelve years nearer me
Than when the sunlight filled that Northern sea
With glory infinite, and passion's glow
Fell over the blue waters. Even so,
Death, calm-browed God and Lord, I wait for thee:
With those I love, Lord, I would also be;
For one by one my loved ones, smiling, go.
That death is nearer:—twelve years nearer me
Than when the sunlight filled that Northern sea
With glory infinite, and passion's glow
Fell over the blue waters. Even so,
Death, calm-browed God and Lord, I wait for thee:
With those I love, Lord, I would also be;
For one by one my loved ones, smiling, go.
And I shall follow. I am nearer those
Who have died and left me,—nearer every day.
Soon I shall join the unspeakable repose
Of mighty souls and true who have passed away.
Straight from death's sea to-night the sea-wind blows:
What touched my forehead?—Ah, the spray, the spray!
Who have died and left me,—nearer every day.
Soon I shall join the unspeakable repose
Of mighty souls and true who have passed away.
Straight from death's sea to-night the sea-wind blows:
What touched my forehead?—Ah, the spray, the spray!
April 9, 1882.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |