Последний отзыв
Это скорее приключение, чем история. Но читать приятно.
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2024.
✖
A line-o'-verse or two
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
TO THE SUN
(Variations on a theme by Gilbert.)
Shine on, Old Top, shine on!
Across the realms of space
Shine on!
What though I’m in a sorry case?
What though my collar is a wreck,
And hangs a rag about my neck?
What though at food I can but peck?
Never you mind!
Shine on!
Shine on, Old Top, shine on!
Through leagues of lifeless air
Shine on!
It’s true I’ve no more shirts to wear,
My underwear is soaked, ’tis true,
My gullet is a redhot flue —
But don’t let that unsettle you!
Never you mind!
Shine on! [It shines on.]
WHEN IT IS HOT
“And Nebuchadnezzar commanded the most mighty men that were in his army to bind Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, and to cast them into the burning fiery furnace.”
Consider Mr. Shadrach,
Of fiery furnace fame:
He didn’t bleat about the heat
Or fuss about the flame.
He didn’t stew and worry,
And get his nerves in kinks,
Nor fill his skin with limes and gin
And other “cooling drinks.”
Consider Mr. Meshach,
Who felt the furnace too:
He let it sizz nor queried “Is
It hot enough for you?”
He didn’t mop his forehead,
And hunt a shady spot;
Nor did he say, “Gee! what a day!
Believe me, it’s some hot.”
Consider, too, Abed-nego,
Who shared his comrades’ plight:
He didn’t shake his coat and make
Himself a holy sight.
He didn’t wear suspenders
Without a coat and vest;
Nor did he scowl and snort and howl,
And make himself a pest.
Consider, friends, this trio —
How little fuss they made.
They didn’t curse when it was worse
Than ninety in the shade.
They moved about serenely
Within the furnace bright,
And soon forgot that it was hot,
With “no relief in sight.”
THE SIMPLE, HEARTFELT LAY
Lives of poets oft remind us
Not to wait too long for Time,
But, departing, leave behind us
Obvious facts embalmed in rime.
Poems that we have to ponder
Turn us prematurely gray;
We are infinitely fonder
Of the simple, heartfelt lay.
Whitman’s Leaves of Grass is odious,
Browning’s Ring and Book a bore.
Bleat, O bards, in lines melodious, —
Bleat that two and two is four!
Must we hunt for hidden treasures?
Nay! We want the heartfelt straight.
Minstrel, sing, in obvious measures —
Sing that four and four is eight!
Whitman leads to easy slumbers,
Browning makes us hunt the hay.
Pipe, ye potes, in simplest numbers,
Anything ye have to say.
Q·HORATIVS·FLACCUS
B· L· T·SVO·SALVTEM
HAEC·CARMINA·MI·VETVLE·QVAE
ME·IVVENE·PARVM·DILIGENTER
COMPOSITA·EXCIDERVNT·SENEX
REFICIENDA·LIMANDAQVE·IAM
Другие электронные книги автора Bert Taylor
Последний отзыв
Это скорее приключение, чем история. Но читать приятно.