The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
70
“AND YET!”
Hold thou thy loved one through the summer night;
Soon 'twill be light;
The armies of the stars will own defeat:
The sun will frighten love from out the skies,
With flaming eyes:
But yet the night was sweet!
Soon 'twill be light;
The armies of the stars will own defeat:
The sun will frighten love from out the skies,
With flaming eyes:
But yet the night was sweet!
The velvet lips that rested once on thine,
With touch divine,
Turn elsewhere. Will love pause, though tears entreat?
Through all time, never!—Yet in days gone by
(Yes, one swift sigh!)
Those lips to thee were sweet.
With touch divine,
Turn elsewhere. Will love pause, though tears entreat?
Through all time, never!—Yet in days gone by
(Yes, one swift sigh!)
Those lips to thee were sweet.
One hour of rapture, and the sun's warm breath;
Then sunless death;
Death for the poppies and the golden wheat:
Death for the larkspur gathering pearls of dew,
And pansies blue:
Yet pansies find life sweet!
Then sunless death;
Death for the poppies and the golden wheat:
71
And pansies blue:
Yet pansies find life sweet!
Places where love in the old bright days was fair,
And joys that were,
Have one same sombre message to repeat;
The grass will shortly wave above our tomb
With green wild bloom—
And yet the grass is sweet!
And joys that were,
Have one same sombre message to repeat;
The grass will shortly wave above our tomb
With green wild bloom—
And yet the grass is sweet!
The honeysuckle in the hedge last year
Loved to be near
Those lovers whispering on the garden-seat.
Divided are those loving hearts to-day!
Sundered for aye!
Yet was not last year sweet?
Loved to be near
Those lovers whispering on the garden-seat.
Divided are those loving hearts to-day!
Sundered for aye!
Yet was not last year sweet?
The fierce-eyed sun has risen, and we look back
Upon love's track:
Were ever starlit tender moods discreet?
Could ever flower of fragrant passion bear
The morn's keen air?
(Yet passion-flowers are sweet!)
Upon love's track:
Were ever starlit tender moods discreet?
Could ever flower of fragrant passion bear
The morn's keen air?
(Yet passion-flowers are sweet!)
72
The summer mocks us with its wealth of blue,
And wondrous hue,
And fervent fierce unsympathetic heat;
The blossoms mock us with their wealth of sheen,
Gay 'midst the green—
Yet starlit nights are sweet!
And wondrous hue,
And fervent fierce unsympathetic heat;
The blossoms mock us with their wealth of sheen,
Gay 'midst the green—
Yet starlit nights are sweet!
Love and all tender joys will soon be o'er,
And we no more
Shall thrill at the approach of woman's feet;
Quiet we soon in the chill earth shall lie,
My love and I—
And yet my love is sweet!
And we no more
Shall thrill at the approach of woman's feet;
Quiet we soon in the chill earth shall lie,
My love and I—
And yet my love is sweet!
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |