The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
157
A SINGER'S EPITAPH
“Nay, think not evil of him; he is dead:
His heart was white, if warring hands were red:
He rests in peace: forgive him”—so God said.
His heart was white, if warring hands were red:
He rests in peace: forgive him”—so God said.
“He fought a battle that ye cannot see,
And sought with terrible great passion Me:
His work is over; let the singer be.
And sought with terrible great passion Me:
His work is over; let the singer be.
“He fiercely strove for the superb embrace
I grant my chosen,—met Me face to face,
Standing like Moses in an awful place.
I grant my chosen,—met Me face to face,
Standing like Moses in an awful place.
“He sought the kiss of Deity,—and now
It rests for ever on the dead calm brow:
He lived in Me,—ye understand not how.
It rests for ever on the dead calm brow:
He lived in Me,—ye understand not how.
158
“His soul was one with all the stars and seas
And with my vast inspiring spirit in these;
He heard the messages of flowers and trees.
And with my vast inspiring spirit in these;
He heard the messages of flowers and trees.
“He worshipped Beauty with a love divine,
Pure at the root and passionate like mine;
Red roses for his wreath with white combine.
Pure at the root and passionate like mine;
Red roses for his wreath with white combine.
“Red roses,—for his heart was ever red
With weary sweet swift-dropping life-blood shed
For man and woman; twist them round his head.
With weary sweet swift-dropping life-blood shed
For man and woman; twist them round his head.
“White roses,—for his heart was pure within,
And some was sorrow that ye counted sin;
He sought what most have little zeal to win.
And some was sorrow that ye counted sin;
He sought what most have little zeal to win.
“He sought with vast and ultimate desire
His soul to mingle with my Godhead's fire,
And, lifted once, to struggle ever higher.
His soul to mingle with my Godhead's fire,
And, lifted once, to struggle ever higher.
“His sins were many: but the love that trod
That awful upward road towards me, me God,
Hath cleansed his sin: he ever walked thorn-shod.
That awful upward road towards me, me God,
Hath cleansed his sin: he ever walked thorn-shod.
159
“Not ever for one moment of one day
Was suffering's bitter harrowing goad away:
With him, to love and battle was to pray.
Was suffering's bitter harrowing goad away:
With him, to love and battle was to pray.
“They are not what ye think; these poets shed
Their blood for man, and, ere ye know, are dead:
Lo! I can love and honour”—so God said.
Their blood for man, and, ere ye know, are dead:
Lo! I can love and honour”—so God said.
June, 1881.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |