The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
134
XXXIX. “IF CHRIST BE ‘RISEN INDEED’”
If Christ be “risen indeed,” is this not then the presage
Of a strange deathless sweet immeasurable message,—
A token of what shall be
Not only for the hills and limitless blue mountains
And silver-laughing hearts of fern-embroidered fountains
And for all flowers, but also, love, for thee?
Of a strange deathless sweet immeasurable message,—
A token of what shall be
Not only for the hills and limitless blue mountains
And silver-laughing hearts of fern-embroidered fountains
And for all flowers, but also, love, for thee?
Not only will all lands hear somewhat of the token:
Not only will death's deep dark evil spell be broken
For the immemorial past:
Not only will the stars rejoice and sing together
And newly risen birds spread forth bright deathless feather
As on the laughing winds their wings they cast:
Not only will death's deep dark evil spell be broken
For the immemorial past:
Not only will the stars rejoice and sing together
And newly risen birds spread forth bright deathless feather
As on the laughing winds their wings they cast:
Not only will the heaven to Cleopatra's splendour
Sweeter and nobler now, great peerless homage render:
All past fair queens shall rise
With the eternal light of heaven within their glances
And all the fire of old beloved and high romances,
Flaming, shall be rekindled at their eyes.
Sweeter and nobler now, great peerless homage render:
All past fair queens shall rise
135
And all the fire of old beloved and high romances,
Flaming, shall be rekindled at their eyes.
The message is for all: for all the world of roses
And for the violet blue whose humbler head reposes
Beside the roses' feet.
The message is for each: for every generation;
For the deep heart of each vast struggling heaving nation:—
Lo! “Christ is risen.” Is not the news most sweet?
And for the violet blue whose humbler head reposes
Beside the roses' feet.
The message is for each: for every generation;
For the deep heart of each vast struggling heaving nation:—
Lo! “Christ is risen.” Is not the news most sweet?
The news that Love and Life are after all the stronger:
That if pale hate holds out, sweet rose-flushed Love lasts longer:
The news that death is dead,
And that triumphant Love, though weary with long labour
And fiercer strife, may sheathe at last his bloodied sabre
And raise towards stainless airs his golden head.
That if pale hate holds out, sweet rose-flushed Love lasts longer:
The news that death is dead,
And that triumphant Love, though weary with long labour
And fiercer strife, may sheathe at last his bloodied sabre
And raise towards stainless airs his golden head.
The beauty that struck deep,—the wondrous look that maddened,—
The summer sunful eyes that, as they glistened, gladdened
The whole world like the morn,—
These shall not pass away. Nay, with a glance supremer
Thine eyes shall seek in heaven for me thy poet-dreamer,
Demanding that new nobler song be born.
The summer sunful eyes that, as they glistened, gladdened
The whole world like the morn,—
These shall not pass away. Nay, with a glance supremer
Thine eyes shall seek in heaven for me thy poet-dreamer,
Demanding that new nobler song be born.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |