Robert William Service (Роберт Уильям Сервис)

The Great Recall

I've wearied of so many things
Adored in youthful days;
Music no more my spirit wings,
E'en when Master play.
For stage and screen I have no heart,
Great paintings leave me cold;
Alas! I've lost the love of Art
That raptured me of old.

Only my love of books is left,
Yet that begins to pall;
And if of it I am bereft,
I'll read no more at all.
Then when I am too frail to walk
I'll sit out in the sun,
And there with Nature I will talk...
Last friend and dearest one.

For Nature's all in all to me;
My other loves are vain;
Her bosom brought me forth and she
Will take me back again.
So I will let her have her way,
For I've a feeling odd,
Whatever wiser men may say,
That she herself is GOD.

1. Music in the Bush
2. The Rhyme of the Remittance Man
3. The Little Old Log Cabin
4. The Younger Son
5. The March of the Dead

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1663

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