Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Proud Songsters

The thrushes sing as the sun is going,
And the finches whistle in ones and pairs,
And as it gets dark loud nightingales
In bushes
Pipe, as they can when April wears,
As if all Time were theirs.

These are brand-new birds of twelve-months’ growing,
Which a year ago, or less than twain,
No finches were, nor nightingales,
Nor thrushes,
But only particles of grain,
And earth, and air, and rain.

1. Afternoon Service at Mellstock
2. The Supplanter
3. Evening Shadows
4. At the Altar-Rail
5. At the Word ‘Farewell’

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1454

Последние стихотворения

To English version