Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TWELVE SONNETS: 6, by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913)



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TWELVE SONNETS: 6, by            
First Line: Not in these songs of thee do I caress
Last Line: And peals reverberant the far ether smite!


Not in these songs of thee do I caress
My lyre, and utter amorous melodies,—
Singing love-songs beneath blue facile skies
Unstricken of storm, unversed in passion's stress.
Nay, rather would I thunder through my lyre
And mix my song with the tumultuous storm,
If so I might the sons of men inspire
And with my soul their listening souls inform!

For thou art great: no queen of amorous ditty,
But sweet, divine, a woman full of pity
That crowneth woman, and of woman's might:—
Queen of the proud untouched impassioned soul:
Therefore for thee shall songs in thunders roll
And peals reverberant the far ether smite!





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