An Actor's Reminiscences and Other Poems By George Barlow |
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| XVII. |
SONNET XVII.
THE CHILD.
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 | An Actor's Reminiscences and Other Poems |  |
92
SONNET XVII. THE CHILD.
And now the child is gone.—Her simple woes
Will torture thine almighty brain no more.
Thou art free,—thou art free! Thy shackled life is o'er:
Her death wide open life's gold gateway throws.
Thou hast thy longed-for infinite repose!
Now thou mayest ponder on the lonely shore
Uninterrupted, and thy soul outpour:
No more the stream of questions by thee flows.
Will torture thine almighty brain no more.
Thou art free,—thou art free! Thy shackled life is o'er:
Her death wide open life's gold gateway throws.
Thou hast thy longed-for infinite repose!
Now thou mayest ponder on the lonely shore
Uninterrupted, and thy soul outpour:
No more the stream of questions by thee flows.
Silence is thine. And is the silence rest?—
I asked the question: and I was aware
Of a lone man who beat upon his breast,
And sighed, and groaned to the unanswering air,
“All fame and genius would I give to hold
Once more in mine the child's hand as of old!”
I asked the question: and I was aware
Of a lone man who beat upon his breast,
And sighed, and groaned to the unanswering air,
“All fame and genius would I give to hold
Once more in mine the child's hand as of old!”
| An Actor's Reminiscences and Other Poems | |