Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TWELVE SONNETS: 12. AFTER BATTLE, by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913)



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TWELVE SONNETS: 12. AFTER BATTLE, by            
First Line: And, after battle, tenderer is the breeze
Last Line: Sweeter than crown of gold, or wand of palm.


And, after battle, tenderer is the breeze,
More bountiful the beauty of the night,—
New stars within the abysmal blue shine bright,
And balmier odours fill the forest-trees,
And yet more silvery moonlight floods the seas,
And woman's breast is more exceeding white:
More heavenly is the touch of finger light,
And more divine the most strange sense of ease.

Oh, wind the wreath of battle round thy brow,
Thou lover-warrior! Then shalt thou learn how
The kiss of woman may be God's own calm
Descending with a softness past all speech
Thy blood-stained hopeless lifeless lips to reach;
Sweeter than crown of gold, or wand of palm.





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