The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. | VII. THE INLAND-LOVE AND THE SEA-LOVE
|
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| II. |
| III. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
23
VII. THE INLAND-LOVE AND THE SEA-LOVE
The old sweet inland love was mighty of soul and seeming:—
Through valleys sweet with flowers its footstep lingered dreaming
And ever it laughed and sang.
But when the valleys all are trodden and moorland heather
Burns round about our path, and winds and waves together
Mingle their solemn chant, how large is love and love's last pang.
Through valleys sweet with flowers its footstep lingered dreaming
And ever it laughed and sang.
But when the valleys all are trodden and moorland heather
Burns round about our path, and winds and waves together
Mingle their solemn chant, how large is love and love's last pang.
Far-off the valleys seem, and all the inland flowers;
Love's tender spring, and love's soft unforgotten bowers
Where the early words were said.
Upon the cliffs the last great fight is ever wagéd
And the red final blades of close-locked swords assuagéd
While round about us crowd the strange-eyed hosts of the awful dead.
Love's tender spring, and love's soft unforgotten bowers
Where the early words were said.
Upon the cliffs the last great fight is ever wagéd
And the red final blades of close-locked swords assuagéd
While round about us crowd the strange-eyed hosts of the awful dead.
24
So, though the old loves were sweet, yet in a sense far sweeter
Is the last love that links its music-soul to metre
With the great waves in sight.
For something it hath upon its lips of the sea-laughter
And in its eyes the awe and shadow of the hereafter
And in its hands the strength of the seas, and on its brow their light.
Is the last love that links its music-soul to metre
With the great waves in sight.
For something it hath upon its lips of the sea-laughter
And in its eyes the awe and shadow of the hereafter
And in its hands the strength of the seas, and on its brow their light.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |