Последний отзыв
очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2025.
✖
Poems, 1908-1919
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
My garden-wind had driven and havened again
All ships that ever had gone to sea,
And I saw the glory of all dead men
In the shadow that went by the side of me.
SEALED
The doves call down the long arcades of pine,
The screaming swifts are tiring towards their eaves,
And you are very quiet, O lover of mine.
No foot is on your ploughlands now, the song
Fails and is no more heard among your leaves
That wearied not in praise the whole day long.
I have watched with you till this twilight-fall,
The proud companion of your loveliness;
Have you no word for me, no word at all?
The passion of my thought I have given you,
Striving towards your passion, nevertheless,
The clover leaves are deepening to the dew,
And I am still unsatisfied, untaught.
You lie guarded in mystery, you go
Into your night, and leave your lover naught.
Would I were Titan with immeasurable thews
To hold you trembling, lover of mine, and know
To the full the secret savour that you use
Now to my tormenting. I would drain
Your beauty to the last sharp glory of it;
You should work mightily through me, blood and brain.
Your heart in my heart’s mastery should burn,
And you before my swift and arrogant wit
Should be no longer proudly taciturn.
You should bend back astonished at my kiss,
Your wisdom should be armourer to my pride,
And you, subdued, should yet be glad of this.
The joys of great heroic lovers dead
Should seem but market-gossiping beside
The annunciation of our bridal bed.
And now, my lover earth, I am a leaf,
A wave of light, a bird’s note, a blade sprung
Towards the oblivion of the sickled sheaf;
A mere mote driven against your royal ease,
A tattered eager traveller among
The myriads beating on your sanctuaries.
I have no strength to crush you to my will,
Your beauty is invulnerably zoned,
Yet I, your undefeated lover still,
Exulting in your sap am clear of shame,
And biding with you patiently am throned
Above the flight of desolation’s aim.
You may be mute, bestow no recompense
On all the thriftless leaguers of my soul —
I am at your gates, O lover of mine, and thence
Will I not turn for any scorn you send,
Rebuked, bemused, yet is my purpose whole,
I shall be striving towards you till the end.
A PRAYER
Lord, not for light in darkness do we pray,
Not that the veil be lifted from our eyes,
Nor that the slow ascension of our day
Be otherwise.
Not for a clearer vision of the things
Whereof the fashioning shall make us great,
Not for remission of the peril and stings
Of time and fate.
Not for a fuller knowledge of the end
Whereto we travel, bruised yet unafraid,
Nor that the little healing that we lend
Shall be repaid.
Not these, O Lord. We would not break the bars
Thy wisdom sets about us; we shall climb
Unfettered to the secrets of the stars
In Thy good time.
We do not crave the high perception swift
When to refrain were well, and when fulfil,
Nor yet the understanding strong to sift
The good from ill.
Not these, O Lord. For these Thou hast revealed,
Другие электронные книги автора John Drinkwater
Tides
0
0
Последний отзыв
очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей