The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. | X. “THE SUNSETS CAME TO ME”
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| 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. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| III. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
97
X. “THE SUNSETS CAME TO ME”
The sunsets came to me, with red cheeks flushed and burning:
“Not one of us survives, for all our love and yearning
And beauty,” so they said.
The honeysuckle came; and violets from the meadows;
And king-cups; and their eyes were full of soft sad shadows:
“Lo!” said they, “soon we too shall join the dead.”
“Not one of us survives, for all our love and yearning
And beauty,” so they said.
The honeysuckle came; and violets from the meadows;
And king-cups; and their eyes were full of soft sad shadows:
“Lo!” said they, “soon we too shall join the dead.”
And many blue waves came, and green waves, and grey waters,
And dark-eyed woodland nymphs the dark-leaved forests' daughters,
And mermaids from the sea,
And river-maids with blue long dripping watery tresses:
And each one said, “How sweet are Love's warm soft caresses;
Why should Love's lustrous white wings ever flee?”
And dark-eyed woodland nymphs the dark-leaved forests' daughters,
And mermaids from the sea,
And river-maids with blue long dripping watery tresses:
And each one said, “How sweet are Love's warm soft caresses;
Why should Love's lustrous white wings ever flee?”
98
And then I thought: “If these survive not, what, I wonder,
Of thee, fair lady mine? Will death's malign black thunder,
Across thy pathway roll
Never? If all the world thus groans in ceaseless bondage,—
Wave, sunset, river, lake, mermaiden, golden frondage—
Nymphs of the woodland, daisies of the knoll—
Of thee, fair lady mine? Will death's malign black thunder,
Across thy pathway roll
Never? If all the world thus groans in ceaseless bondage,—
Wave, sunset, river, lake, mermaiden, golden frondage—
Nymphs of the woodland, daisies of the knoll—
“If this be so with each,—if each be born to suffer,
Do death and pain on these lay hands less courteous, rougher,
Than they will lay on thee?
Canst thou escape thy fate more than the dark-eyed maiden
Whose leafy hair with scent of dim pine-woods is laden,
Or than the blue-haired goddess of the sea?”
Do death and pain on these lay hands less courteous, rougher,
Than they will lay on thee?
Canst thou escape thy fate more than the dark-eyed maiden
Whose leafy hair with scent of dim pine-woods is laden,
Or than the blue-haired goddess of the sea?”
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |