William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли)

In Hospital. 18. Children: Private Ward

Here in this dim, dull, double-bedded room,
I play the father to a brace of boys,
Ailing but apt for every sort of noise,
Bedfast but brilliant yet with health and bloom.
Roden, the Irishman, is ‘sieven past,’
Blue-eyed, snub-nosed, chubby, and fair of face.
Willie’s but six, and seems to like the place,
A cheerful little collier to the last.
They eat, and laugh, and sing, and fight, all day;
All night they sleep like dormice.  See them play
At Operations:—Roden, the Professor,
Saws, lectures, takes the artery up, and ties;
Willie, self-chloroformed, with half-shut eyes,
Holding the limb and moaning—Case and Dresser.

1. In Hospital. 12. Etching
2. Attadale, West Highlands
3. The Gods are Dead
4. Echoes. 28. Blithe Dreams Arise to Greet Us
5. Echoes. 27. She Sauntered by the Swinging Seas

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1540

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