John William Inchbold Poems

I sing of love that has been sung before,
I tell the oldest tale of all the world;
But new or old, I sing yet more and more,
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O wherefore ever onward Love, O why
Not rest with me awhile, and bid me take
Thine own sweet flowers that everywhere grow high
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In a dream of the night,
Afar from the day,
By the soft moon light,
You passed my way.
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I saw the stars look down upon the earth,
The cold moon blended with the trembling sea,
I watch'd the sun from earliest time of birth,
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Although the yellow leaves are on the tree,
And summer's ruins thickly strew the ground,
And no bright flowers are in the sea-girt lea,
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I know great clouds are all around the sky;
I know great rocks are seen along the shore;
Waves terrible, I know, dash loud and high,
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I love, and therefore silent I remain,
Because I love, no jealousy is near;
I love! and love's expression can restrain,
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To know thy will, O Love, itself is joy,
To do it an ineffable delight,
Unweariedly life's sweetness to employ
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The sea is all unknown and dark to me,
Great blackness rests on rock and tree and field,
The sky above I only know to be,—
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Do those pure eyes shine verily the same,
On any other eyes they chance to meet?
O tell to me, by Love's untarnished name,
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