Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LILIES: 2. MY SWORD, by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913)



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LILIES: 2. MY SWORD, by            
First Line: God says that I may send thee, sweet, my sword
Last Line: Take thou the weary steel, and put it by.


God says that I may send thee, sweet, my sword.—
Its use is nearly over,—let the hilt
Be held once in thy white hand if thou wilt;—
That touch will be its owner's high reward.
Black-stained it is with blood of foemen spilt,
Dinted and jagged, and snapped anigh the point,
And all the tassel is of rusted gilt;
The scabbard gapes with wear at every joint.

I shall not need it more. The highest gift
That I can give, it is; the tenderest too.
No more in battle shall it glitter swift,
And, after, streak its sheath with crimson dew.
The sword is dead and victor,—as am I:
Take thou the weary steel, and put it by.





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