Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 13, by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913)



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SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 13, by                    
First Line: Thou could'st not watch with me! - the flowers are thine
Last Line: And girl-lips, have ye no sweet word to say?


Thou could'st not watch with me!—The flowers are thine
Soft in the valleys,—where the blue stream speeds
By banks of osier and the bending reeds,
And where the sunlit golden ripples shine.
The foaming white salt sea-waves' crested line,
And the blue-gentianed austere mountain-meads,
And snow-fields whence thy traitor foot recedes,
And the far dim laborious peaks,—are mine.

O thou whose hazel eyes so pure and deep
Should towards far splendid heights have led the way,
Hadst thou no holy watch with me to keep?
The dark is lessening, and the pale morn's grey
Glimmers O girl-heart, art thou still asleep?
And girl-lips, have ye no sweet word to say?





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