Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Four in the Morning

At four this day of June I rise:
The dawn-light strengthens steadily;
Earth is a cerule mystery,
As if not far from Paradise
At four o’clock,

Or else near the Great Nebula,
Or where the Pleiads blink and smile:
(For though we see with eyes of guile
The grisly grin of things by day,
At four o’clock

They show their best.)... In this vale’s space
I am up the first, I think. Yet, no,
A whistling? and the to-and-fro
Wheezed whettings of a scythe apace
At four o’clock?...

– Though pleasure spurred, I rose with irk:
Here is one at compulsion’s whip
Taking his life’s stern stewardship
With blithe uncare, and hard at work
At four o’clock!

Bockhampton

1. The Chimes Play ‘Life’s a Bumper!’
2. Could I but Will
3. The History of an Hour
4. Premonitions
5. The Hatband

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2182

Последние стихотворения

To English version