Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс)

Comrades

I and my Soul are alone to-day,
   All in the shining weather;
We were sick of the world, and put it away,
   So we could rejoice together.

Our host, the Sun, in the blue, blue sky
   Is mixing a rare, sweet wine,
In the burnished gold of this cup on high,
   For me, and this Soul of mine.

We find it a safe and royal drink,
   And a cure for every pain;
It helps us to love, and helps us to think,
   And strengthens body and brain.

And sitting here, with my Soul alone,
   Where the yellow sun-rays fall,
Of all the friends I have ever known
   I find it the best of all.

We rarely meet when the world is near,
   For the World hath a pleasing art
And brings me so much that is bright and dear
   That my Soul it keepeth apart.

But when I grow weary of mirth and glee,
   Of glitter, glow, and splendour,
Like a tried old friend it comes to me,
   With a smile that is sad and tender.

And we walk together as two friends may,
   And laugh and drink God’s wine.
Oh, a royal comrade any day
   I find this Soul of mine.

1. Behold the Earth
2. The Birth of the Orchid
3. Intermediary
4. Assistance
5. The Call (All wantonly in hours of joy)

Wilfred Gibson (Уилфрид Гибсон) Comrades ("AS I was marching in Flanders")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1378

Последние стихотворения

To English version