Paul Hamilton Hayne (Пол Гамильтон Хейн)

* * *

PENT in this common sphere of sensual shows,
I pine for beauty; beauty of fresh mien,
And gentle utterance, and the charm serene,
Wherewith the hue of mystic dream-land glows;
I pine for loving music, the repose
Of low-voiced waters, in some realm between
The perfect Adenne, and this clouded scene
Of love's sad loss, and passion's mournful throes;
A pleasant country, girt with twilight calm,
In whose fair heaven a moon of shadowy round
Wades through a fading fall of sunset rain;
Where drooping lotos-flowers, distilling balm,
Gleam by the drowsy streamlets sleep hath crown'd,
While Care forgets to sigh, and Peace hath balsamed Pain.

1. A Christmas Lyric
2. Baby’s First Word
3. A Morning after Storm
4. “Too Low and Yet Too High”
5. Now, While the Rear-Guard of the Flying Year

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1196

Последние стихотворения

To English version