Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Henry Vaughan (Генри Воэн)


The Pursuit


LORD! what a busy, restless thing
Hast Thou made man!
Each day and hour he is on wing,
Rests not a span;
Then having lost the sun and light,
By clouds surpris'd,
He keeps a commerce in the night
With air disguis'd.
Hadst Thou given to this active dust
A state untir'd,
The lost son had not left the husk,
Nor home desir'd.
That was Thy secret, and it is
Thy mercy too;
For when all fails to bring to bliss,
Then this must do.
Ah, Lord! and what a purchase will that be,
To take us sick, that sound would not take Thee! 



Henry Vaughan's other poems:
  1. Thou That Know'st For Whom I Mourn
  2. The Relapse
  3. Etesia Absent
  4. Vain Wits and Eyes
  5. I Walk'd the Other Day


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1450


Последние стихотворения


To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru