The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
229
SONNET XVII
“AND NOW THE SAD THOUGHT”
And now the sad thought fills my heart with tears
And stills my very singing for awhile.—
When love is born, the farthest white clouds smile
And fragrance wafted from remotest years
Greets us, and all June's chanting fills our ears.
We linger, as one lingers on a stile
'Tween meadow and meadow. Flowers so fair beguile
Our fancy that it hath no room for fears.
And stills my very singing for awhile.—
When love is born, the farthest white clouds smile
And fragrance wafted from remotest years
Greets us, and all June's chanting fills our ears.
We linger, as one lingers on a stile
'Tween meadow and meadow. Flowers so fair beguile
Our fancy that it hath no room for fears.
When love is born, the farthest star-lips sing
And music fills the temples of the sky.
Who dreams of Winter when the green-clad Spring
With white hand full of primroses is nigh?
Dear heart, when love's hand strikes his first harp-string
How can we bear to think that love must die!
And music fills the temples of the sky.
Who dreams of Winter when the green-clad Spring
With white hand full of primroses is nigh?
Dear heart, when love's hand strikes his first harp-string
How can we bear to think that love must die!
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |