Katharine Tynan (Кэтрин Тайнен)

Easter

Bring flowers to strew His way, 
Yea, sing, make holiday; 
Bid young lambs leap, 
And earth laugh after sleep. 

For now He cometh forth
Winter flies to the north, 
Folds wings and cries 
Amid the bergs and ice. 

Yea, Death, great Death is dead, 
And Life reigns in his stead;
Cometh the Athlete 
New from dead Death’s defeat. 

Cometh the Wrestler, 
But Death he makes no stir, 
Utterly spent and done, 
And all his kingdom gone.

1. To the Others
2. Unhousel'd, Unanointed, Unanel'd
3. Distraction
4. The Heroes
5. A Song of Going

Joyce Kilmer (Джойс Килмер) Easter ("The air is like a butterfly")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1214

Последние стихотворения

To English version