Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LILIES: 17, by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913)



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LILIES: 17, by            
First Line: Be gentle with me: for thou knowest not yet
Last Line: And sweet would seem a night without a morrow!


Be gentle with me: for thou knowest not yet
The utter need there is in me of love.
Oh! though the poets' brows, bay-crowned above,
Shine famously,—look close, their eyes are wet.
The sorrow of all the earth God's hand has set
Upon them for a wreath,—and in strange fashion
To understand in soul earth's every passion:
For this it is that earth is in their debt.

What the slow heartless lover cannot feel,
The poet feels for him; and tear-drops steal
Adown his cheeks when others cannot sorrow.
What wonder then if sometimes in his heart
There is a yearning he cannot impart,
And sweet would seem a night without a morrow!





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