The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
50
XVIII. THE DEATH OF TYRANNY
All tyrannies shall pass.—The tyranny of winter
That clothes with snow and frost and pitiless ice-splinter
The blossomless may-tree.
The tyranny that strips of leaves the greenwood cover:
The tyranny that parts the loved one from the lover;
That keeps the imprisoned sea-bird from the sea.
That clothes with snow and frost and pitiless ice-splinter
The blossomless may-tree.
The tyranny that strips of leaves the greenwood cover:
The tyranny that parts the loved one from the lover;
That keeps the imprisoned sea-bird from the sea.
The tyranny that holds our eyes and hearts in prison
In dark-green leafy woods when God has just arisen
In sunlight o'er the waves:
The tyranny that holds vast nations pent in bondage;
That changes to blood-red the agonized green frondage
And changes bridal-beds to brideless graves.
In dark-green leafy woods when God has just arisen
In sunlight o'er the waves:
The tyranny that holds vast nations pent in bondage;
That changes to blood-red the agonized green frondage
And changes bridal-beds to brideless graves.
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The tyranny of man o'er woman, and of pleasure
Over the Soul that strives with suffering past all measure
To arise and stand upright:
The tyranny that sends the songless days and flowerless
And hurls the darts of pain upon us, speechless, powerless,
After our sojourn in love's vast sweet light.
Over the Soul that strives with suffering past all measure
To arise and stand upright:
The tyranny that sends the songless days and flowerless
And hurls the darts of pain upon us, speechless, powerless,
After our sojourn in love's vast sweet light.
All tyrannies shall end. Of kings and lusts and liars
And sorrow and evil hours and thorns that on the briars
Startle the roses' breath:
And last of all shall end the power of him who waiteth
Alert, unconquered yet, when all force else abateth,—
The agelong hell-deep Monarchy of Death.
And sorrow and evil hours and thorns that on the briars
Startle the roses' breath:
And last of all shall end the power of him who waiteth
Alert, unconquered yet, when all force else abateth,—
The agelong hell-deep Monarchy of Death.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |