The Marriage Before Death, And Other Poems By George Barlow |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. | V.—THE ARTIST. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
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 | The Marriage Before Death, And Other Poems |  |
213
V.—THE ARTIST.
So Art sits—and the artist is at peace;
He hopes not, dreads not, toils not, nor despairs,
Healing for him upon the summer airs
And strength descend, as rose-crowned years increase.
Death is not terrible, but calm release—
Life is not over-glad: its gifts life bears
And then the grave, its final gift, prepares—
The hour when even rose-delight shall cease!
He hopes not, dreads not, toils not, nor despairs,
Healing for him upon the summer airs
And strength descend, as rose-crowned years increase.
Death is not terrible, but calm release—
Life is not over-glad: its gifts life bears
And then the grave, its final gift, prepares—
The hour when even rose-delight shall cease!
Gathering from Art her high triumphal calm,
The artist, each day's wreath within his hands,
Strengthened at morning, soothed by evening's balm,
Victor above the impulsive people stands:—
Not his the heavenly coronet nor palm,
But his earth's sunsets, his her seas and sands.
The artist, each day's wreath within his hands,
Strengthened at morning, soothed by evening's balm,
Victor above the impulsive people stands:—
Not his the heavenly coronet nor palm,
But his earth's sunsets, his her seas and sands.
| The Marriage Before Death, And Other Poems | |