The Poetical Works of George Barlow :: :: University of Virginia Library

Fairer thing, and sweeter
Than the lark at dawn;
Tenderer, completer,—
Out of God's heart gone;
More silver-voiced than birds, swift-footed as a fawn.

IV

Glorious in the azure,
White above the sea,
Man's supremest pleasure,
Grand in purity,
Woman thou art: and heaven I find, in seeking thee.

V

Marvellous thy singing;
Sweet thy snow-white form
Ever to man's clinging,
Faithful through each storm,
Every surge of anguish, tender still and warm.

VI

Through the night of trouble,
Through thy long sad past,
Thou hast sung; now double,
Sweet, thy song at last;
Sing, for thy night is over, thine enemies downcast.

VII

Bring to man the gladness
That he fain would know;
Banish all our sadness;
Make an end of woe;
Create a perfect heaven amid thy bowers below.

VIII

Sweet, create God's heaven,
Golden, glad, and clear,
In earth's valleys even;
Yea, love, even here:
Bring the divine redemption with thy presence near.

100

IX

Be to man a saviour
Gentle-souled and white,
Sweet in pure behaviour,
Glad in modest might;
Assert thy woman's sceptre, claim thy queenly right.

X

Be to earth a blossom
Soft, divine indeed;
Take man to thy bosom,
Man, in utmost need;
Give to his endless yearning, gentle lady, heed.

XI

Build thy bower of roses,
Golden, sweet, divine
On earth: where love reposes
'Neath ivy and woodbine
Build thou thy palace, made imperishably thine.

101

XII

Let thy wondrous singing
Sound o'er earthly seas;
Lo! thy voice is ringing
Silver in each breeze
Of summer, and amid the green thick-foliaged trees.

XIII

God in thee revealing
All his tender grace
Shines; his love is stealing,
Love, throughout thy face;
Thine hand upon earth's meadows, blossoms in each place.

XIV

Where thou art, the lily
Straightway doth appear;
Roses o'er the hilly
Rocky fields and sheer
Bloom; thou bringest eternal glory, sweetheart, here.

102

XV

All my song I render,
Lady, unto thee;
Worshipping thy splendour,
All thy purity:
Listening to thy low laughter and thy magic glee.

XVI

All the bending glory
Of the golden corn,
Crests of billows hoary,
Crimson clouds at morn,—
And all earth's countless splendours, for thy sake are born.

XVII

Not, like Shelley's wonder,
Singing in the sky,
Not sad thoughts from yonder
Bringest thou, sweet, nigh;
But only utter gladness laughing in thine eye.

103

XVIII

Only utter gladness
Sounding in thy voice,
Now thy former sadness
Letteth thee rejoice,
Having fled back for ever, like a tempest-noise.

XIX

Bring us sweet redemption,
Sweet one, in thy breast;
Virtue and exemption
From the weary quest
For what might be more fitting, what the eternal best.

XX

Thou the eternal best art,
Thou the endless queen,—
Thou man's perfect rest art,
Tender, white, serene,
The sweetest of all songsters that have ever been.

104

XXI

Sweetest of all singers,
Softest of all birds,
Flowers within thy fingers,
Laughter in thy words;
Lo! for thy service now his sword man's spirit girds.

XXII

Not an angel—fairer;
Lovelier, thou art:
Not a skylark—rarer;
Gifted with a heart
Even more full of songs that down the deep blue dart.

XXIII

All my heart and fire
Unto thee I bring;
Bless thou, love, my lyre,—
Let it nobly sing
Thee the eternal queen of every poet-king.

105

XXIV

All my yearning spirit,
Love, to-night I raise;
Let my soul inherit
At the end of days
That heaven whence thou stoopest, coveting our lays.

XXV

For our lays thou lovest,
Though thou art a queen,
Woman; though thou movest
Over floors serene,
Golden in skies untroubled, measureless in sheen.

XXVI

Yet our songs thou hearest,
And thou dost bestow
Power; yea, love, thou carest
For thy bards below
Snatching at sacred joys they may not fully know.

106

XXVII

O thou rose eternal,
Heavenly love, made fair
Not as flowers diurnal,—
Filling all the air
Of purest heaven with fragrance passing man's speech rare;

XXVIII

Take this song and bear it
Through the clouds of night;
For thy garland wear it,—
Smile with smile most bright
Upon my soul, and make it, as thy soul is, white!

1878.