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

Upon the bridge beside the mill
Two lovers paused, and watched the stream:
The golden autumn woods were still
With all the stillness of a dream.
They gazed into each other's eyes;
They loved—they felt that life was sweet;
So still the woods, so calm the skies,
They almost heard their own hearts beat,
While flowing, ever flowing,
The clear stream sought the sea,
As love-sweet moments going
Mix with eternity.

Beside that grey old Yorkshire mill
A hundred hearts have paused to dream:

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Have watched the shadows on the hill,
And watched the foam-bells on the stream.
And all have found the present fair,—
Have found the future—who can say?
But still that same old mill stands there,
And still the stream goes day by day
Flowing, for ever flowing,
Bearing dead hopes along
Like dead leaves, all unknowing,
And changing not its song.

And in the future hundreds more
Will pause and watch the rippling stream,
And hope as others hoped of yore,
And dream as dead hearts used to dream.
A sadness hangs about the mill
And broods above the waters' flow;
So many hearts must now be still
Who watched those bright waves long ago,—
Those bright waves ever flowing,
Singing to hill and sky,
“Seize each love-moment going,
For even love must die!”

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II. A LOST LOVE

I would have died to win her:
I loved her past a dream.
Ah! hand in hand we wandered
Beside the mountain-stream.
I kissed her raven tresses:
I kissed her gentle hand:
I was the proudest lover
In all the wide wide land.

But ah! the rich man sought her;
He bribed her with his gold.
He changed her heart. He bought her.
Her love for me grew cold.
And now my life is over—
In vain the sun may rise;
I never loved the sunshine,
I only loved her eyes!

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Ah! my lost love, my darling,
Will your heart one day see
That when you won your heaven
You purchased hell for me?
Ah! my lost love, my beauty,
His soul is fierce and mean.
He loves you like a plaything:
I loved you like a queen!

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III. A SUMMER DAY

The broad blue sky above me,
The sunshine on the corn
(Oh, had I you to love me,
This perfect August morn!)
Green tall trees overslanting,
With sunlight flashing through
(And yet one thing was wanting;
My heart cried out for you!)

Oh, were you with me, darling,
This perfect summer day,
Its glory were completer
Than tongue of man might say.
The green trees of the forest,
The bright flowers of the dell,
All longed for you, my darling;
And oh, I longed as well!

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And then the eve came slowly:
Soft moonlight glittered down
With tender light and holy
Upon the seaside town.
(Oh, were you only with me,
All longing, love, would cease:
The day that dawned in sadness
Would close its eyes in peace!)

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IV. THE DANCE

Weary I am this winter night,
Sleep presses on my brain;
But you will dance till morning light
Gleams at the window-pane.
Yes, you will dance, while I shall sleep—
So it must ever be!
This winter night is starry-bright
For you, but dark for me.

Yes, you will dance, while I must sleep,
And many a heart will thrill
As through the dance your Spanish glance
Flashes its magic still.
Yes, you will dance, while I shall rest,
And so it ought to be;
For you the night, ablaze with light!
The lampless dark for me!

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And ah! I read the lesson through;
I read and grasp it all.
The day may come when sleep more deep
May on my spirit fall.
I shall be sleeping very sound
And very still, maybe,
While life is yet one merry round
Of dance and song for thee.

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V. “WILT THOU REMEMBER?”

Dost thou remember me? It matters not!
My heart revisits every spot
Which, sweetheart, we have trodden together
In this blue perfect summer weather.

Dost thou remember me? Wilt thou forget?
Mine is the deep regret;
Mine is the undying pain. It sometimes seems
That love comes only in dreams!

Wilt thou remember? Will thy girl's heart keep
Treasured in store-house safe and deep,
Soft memories of the days soon-dying
Before love's laughter changed to sighing?

Wilt thou remember? Must it only be
That I shall think on thee?
Ah! through my heart shoots swift an arrowy pain..
We shall not meet again!

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VI. FOR EVER YOUNG

The wild world hastens on its way;
The grey-haired century nears its close;
Its sorrow deepens day by day;
The summer blush forsakes the rose.
But, darling, while your voice I hear
And while your dark-brown eyes I see
Sad months and sunless, seasons drear,
Are all the same, all glad, to me.
Despair can never reach me
While your soft hand I hold:
While your eyes love and teach me,
I never shall grow old!

They say that love forsakes the old;
That passion pales and fades away;

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That even love's bright locks of gold
Must lose their charm and change to grey.
But, darling, while your heart is mine
And while I feel that you are true
For me the skies will ever shine
With summer light, and tenderest blue.
Yes, let old age deride me!
I scorn his mocking tongue.
Dear love, with you beside me,
I am for ever young!

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VII. AUTUMNAL LOVE

Fair is love whose footstep wanders
'Mid the sunny meads of spring;
Love that smiles and laughs and ponders
While the swallow's on the wing;
Fair and tender,
Full of splendour,
Full of thoughts the roses bring
—Full of dreams the roses bring.

Sweet is love when fervent summer
Fills the fields with flowers and fruit;
When strong passion, swift-winged comer,
Wakes wild echoes with his lute;
Songs of sweeter
Note and metre

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Make spring's softest music mute
—Make spring's sweetest music mute.

Yet life's autumn brought my treasure.
I was sad and tired and old,
Worn and weary beyond measure,
When thy face I did behold:
Sweet love found me,
Saved and crowned me,
When the corn was turning gold
—When the corn was turning gold.

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VIII. “GIVE ME THAT ROSE!”

Give me that rose!
It rests, it blows,
Next to your heart, my sweet.
That flower to which such favour has been shown
Amid Song's deathless flowers shall win a throne
From which to watch the baffled years retreat;
Give me that rose!

Give me that rose:
Our moment goes;
What now might chance, again may never be!
If I have loved you with a love supreme,
For just one wild mad moment let me dream
(And die within the dream) that you love me!
Give me the rose!

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IX. A TUFT OF MEADOW-SWEET

A tuft of withered meadow-sweet,
Just that and nothing more:
And yet what hosts of memories fleet
The dry old fronds restore!
A tuft of withered meadow-sweet,
No gaudy pink or rose;
And yet the dried-up leaves I see,
Long scorned of butterfly and bee,
Are holier, dearer, unto me
Than any flower that blows—
Than any flower that blows, my love,
Than any flower that blows!

For once—ah heaven! how long ago—
You have forgotten quite—
Where over the blue waters' flow
Wild sea-birds' wings shine white,

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You picked a tuft of meadow-sweet
(This very tuft I hold):
You plucked the flower and quite forgot
The flower, the scene, the youth, the spot;
You chose to share another's lot,
And share another's gold;
You scorned the flower, but I did not,
And do not, though I'm old!

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X. A HEART IN ARMOUR

I show the world my armour,
All marred and bent with blows.
Let men complain!—I never deign
My true thoughts to disclose.
I show the world my armour,
Clinched close in every part.
To you I show my weakness:
To you I show my heart.

I show my strength to others;
My tenderness to thee:
An ironbound rock I stand the shock
Of life's tempestuous sea.

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But at thy touch, my darling,
All hardness melts away;
Tears stain my cheek, if you but speak,
And lo! the rock can pray.

How little mankind knows me!
All chained and barred in steel
They find my heart. Then they depart,
And think I cannot feel.
Yet heights and heart-depths hazy
Are sometimes clear to one:
The sun's one favourite daisy
Can understand the sun!

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XI. AT REST

Your dark eyes win a glory
From every passing day;
The longer grows love's story,
The sweeter 'tis, I say!
We conquer Time together;
For every flower we've seen
Has passed into our kingdom,
And made you ten times Queen!

We win the wealth of summers;
We rob the winter days;
You're Queen in your fur tippet,
Queen of the fireside blaze.
Strong love defies all weather:
While you and I are one,
While we walk on together,
We always see the sun!

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More beautiful and holy
You are to me, my Queen:
Life's vistas lengthen slowly,
And scene melts into scene.
But life's old strange heart-hunger
Has ceased—I am at rest:
And daily you grow younger,
And I more deeply blest.

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XII. LOVE THE CONQUEROR

O love, if life should end to-night,
How short our life would seem!
One little flash of summer light;
One brief and passionate dream;
One glimpse of roses on the wall,
Or blue-bells in the lane,
Then, love, the end, the end of all—
Aye, buds might swell, and leaves might fall,
But not for us again!

The stream we used to watch and love
Would ever onward flow;
From the dark pines the grey wood-dove
Would call—we should not know.

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Ah! not for us the pines would wave,
For us no stream would run;
We should be silent in the grave,
Unable even to hoard and save
One little glimpse of sun.

Yet is not this a sombre view
Of life and all it brings?
Thank heaven, the bright waves still are blue,
And still the throstle sings!
And oh, before love's conquering song
Death's voice sinks quite away;
For life is short, but love is long,
And death is fierce, but love is strong,
And love shall win the day!

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XIII. “MY ALL!”

Thou art my all! The golden sun
Runs on its course by day,
Till sombre clouds and vapours dun
Fold round its chariot gay:
Yet without thee the world were dark,
The sun would never shine;
It would be just a wandering spark,
Were not thy hand in mine!
Yea, even the golden sun above
Owes all its glory to thy love.

Thou art my all! The flowers are fair
When summer comes to reign:
But bind the sweet buds in thy hair;
What sweetness new they gain!

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The rose is rich, the lily white,
Yet sweeter each one grows
For soft communion with thy bright
Soft mouth, that richer rose.
Thou art indeed the loveliest thing
That passionate summer steals from spring.

Thou art my all upon this earth;
And thou wilt surely be
My all, when heavenly stars shine forth
On heavenly shores and sea.
My all on earth, my all in heaven,
My earthly summer's rose,
My perfect flower in that strange hour
When earthly summers close—
My light on earth, be still, sweet soul,
My light when life has reached its goal.

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XIV. “LOVERS STILL!”

From lands where Love for ever dreams
Thy soft eyes took their light;
No moon with quite such magic gleams,
Nor any star by night.
There is a light that from the soul
Flows forth, and that is thine;
The only light that can control
So wild a heart as mine!

Thou bindest all my heart in chains,
Sweet chains, as sweet as strong;
Love sometimes for one moment reigns,
But thou hast reigned so long!

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In truth I now begin to see
That we shall never part,
But that God's vast eternity
Will link us, heart to heart.

The thought is strange and solemn, love,
Yet sweeter than 'tis strange:
Grand is the love time cannot move
And life's cares cannot change.
Love me with changeless love like this—
Then let time work its will,
It cannot steal or mar our bliss
If we be lovers still!

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XV. “AH! ONCE I THOUGHT I LOVED THE ROSE”

Ah! once I thought I loved the rose
And once I loved the sky,
Its calm yet passionate repose,
Its blue eternity,—
But now I love thy lips and eyes,
Thy beauty I adore,
I worshipped flowers and summer skies
But thee I worship more.

I know not whether love is pain:
It sometimes brings despair:
Then blooms the summer rose in vain;
In vain it scents the air.

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If thou dost wrap my soul in doubt
And bid bright hope fly far,
Though all night's countless stars shine out
I never see one star.

And yet with pain I would not part,
Not even with despair,
If only I may win thine heart
And find my solace there.
A thousand faces meet my eyes,
And yet I see but one,—
As silent leagues of starlit skies
Dream only of the sun.

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XVI. “WHY SEEK FOR LOVE BEYOND THE SKY?”

Why seek for love beyond the sky,
In stars that swim through space?
Behold! sweet love is very nigh,
And very close his face.
On purple fells, by forest-wells,
By our blue ocean's side,
Love lives and smiles, and dreams and dwells;
He lords it far and wide.

Not in the shining distant space
Where faint star-clusters gleam
Does Love reveal his sovereign face,—
Nay, here he loves to dream.
Our dim old earth can hear his mirth
Through forest-arches ring;
Aye, English lake and Scottish firth
Have heard Love's red lips sing!

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But most of all, O love of mine,
Does Love reveal through thee
His look superb, his touch divine,
His matchless sovereignty.
All stars may die in depths of sky,
All dreams fade even as flowers,
Earth will be heaven if thou art nigh:
Why search, when heaven is ours?