The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | IX. |
THE SINGER'S DOOM
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| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
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THE SINGER'S DOOM
I
Defeat and sorrow drive us to despair,But still we sing.
Spring mourns all past springs' leaves, but yet is fair,
And scents with hawthorn bloom the lazy air,
Each spring.
II
We vow that we will never sing again,But still we sing.
“Silence is best,” we say, “for deep heart-pain.
Why give our lives to song,—to song, so vain
A thing!”
III
“What is the gain of singing?” so we say—But still we sing.
Just as the gold sun rises every day
Because some supreme will he must obey,
Ordering.
71
IV
So we are driven along by some strange will,And still we sing.
Frost gives a respite to the singing rill,
And winter can arrest the wild bird's chill
Stiff wing.
V
Nought can arrest our singing, for a forceStill bids us sing.
The same strong power that urges on their course
The stars, and clothes anew the hills with gorse
And ling.
VI
We cannot rest, or pause. This is our fate,Half joy, half sting,—
To tarry ever at the song-god's gate,
And, whether mankind love or mankind hate,
Ever to sing.
1885.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |