The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
109
SONNET XXIII
“THOU ART THE SAME”
II.
Thou hast not changed since far-off Rachel wept
For her first-born. A million mothers more
Have wailed as through their hearts thine arrow tore
And their hearts' darlings on a sudden slept.
O'er countless battle-fields thy foot has leapt,
Splashing exhilarate 'mid the dull red gore:—
Thine ears have bent to hear their hollow roar,
When over choking ships thy waves' lips crept.
For her first-born. A million mothers more
Have wailed as through their hearts thine arrow tore
And their hearts' darlings on a sudden slept.
O'er countless battle-fields thy foot has leapt,
Splashing exhilarate 'mid the dull red gore:—
Thine ears have bent to hear their hollow roar,
When over choking ships thy waves' lips crept.
Thou art the same. And, long ere history spoke,—
Ages ere e'en papyrus-leaves preserved
The deeds of man,—thou wast as cruel; thou
Watching the ruin wrought by thy sword-stroke
In some dim heart and tawny body curved
Over her dead in lands the sea holds now.
Ages ere e'en papyrus-leaves preserved
The deeds of man,—thou wast as cruel; thou
Watching the ruin wrought by thy sword-stroke
In some dim heart and tawny body curved
Over her dead in lands the sea holds now.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |