The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
173
TWO SONNETS
I.
SINKAT
Men slaughtered, women ravished, children slain:
Men, women, children, who for months had dreamed
That English bayonets ere long would have gleamed
Over the sunburnt hopeless southern plain.—
I think there never thrilled a deeper pain
Quite through the heart of England than to-day!
To know that each soul as it passed away
Left first on England's hands its own blood-stain.
Men, women, children, who for months had dreamed
That English bayonets ere long would have gleamed
Over the sunburnt hopeless southern plain.—
I think there never thrilled a deeper pain
Quite through the heart of England than to-day!
To know that each soul as it passed away
Left first on England's hands its own blood-stain.
O heart of England and great warring eyes
That met the armies of the world and smiled
And hands wherein the silent thunder lies
Sleeping,—are ye now found too weak to save
From slaughter's weltering ravening monstrous wave
One weeping woman or one helpless child?
That met the armies of the world and smiled
And hands wherein the silent thunder lies
Sleeping,—are ye now found too weak to save
From slaughter's weltering ravening monstrous wave
One weeping woman or one helpless child?
Feb. 13, 1884.
174
II.
SINKAT AND MR. GLADSTONE
The English heart was leashed.—We watched afar
The desert hosts engirdling day by day
The prostrate city where our duty lay
Prisoned. From rise of sun to set of star
Men called for England's help.—Who rose to bar
The English spirit upon its fiery way?
Who by weak deeds and imbecile delay
Seared honour's white brow with a shame-red scar?
The desert hosts engirdling day by day
The prostrate city where our duty lay
Prisoned. From rise of sun to set of star
Men called for England's help.—Who rose to bar
The English spirit upon its fiery way?
Who by weak deeds and imbecile delay
Seared honour's white brow with a shame-red scar?
One man: who when the heart of England burned
Held back that heart, and said “Thou shalt not go.”
Whose lips alone in all the land said “No;”
Whose hands alone the pleading pale hands spurned.
Who only in all the land quite tearless turned
From that wild spectacle of lonely woe.
Held back that heart, and said “Thou shalt not go.”
Whose lips alone in all the land said “No;”
Whose hands alone the pleading pale hands spurned.
Who only in all the land quite tearless turned
From that wild spectacle of lonely woe.
Feb. 26, 1884.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |