Bayard Taylor (Бейард Тейлор)

Song

NOW the days are brief and drear:
Naked lies the new-born Year
In his cradle of the snow,
And the winds unbridled blow,
And the skies hang dark and low, --
For the Summers come and go.

Leave the clashing cymbals mute!
Pipe no more the happy flute!
Sing no more that dancing rhyme
Of the rose's harvest-time; --
Sing a requiem, sad and low:
For the Summers come and go.

Where is Youth? He strayed away
Through the meadow-flowers of May.
Where is Love? The leaves that fell
From his trysting-bower, can tell.
Wisdom stays, sedate and slow,
And the Summers come and go.

Yet a few more years to run,
Wheeling round in gloom and sun:
Other raptures, other woes, --
Toil alternate with Repose:
Then to sleep where daisies grow,
While the Summers come and go.

1. To M. T.
2. America to Iceland
3. The Norseman’s Ride
4. The Quaker Widow
5. Through Baltimore

John Clare (Джон Клэр) Song ("One gloomy eve I roam’d about")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1744

Последние стихотворения

To English version