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Thomas MacDonagh (Томас Макдона) Of the Man of My First Play As one who stands in awe when on his sight A fragment of antiquity doth burst And body huge above the plain which erst Knew its high fame and all its olden might, So in a dream of vanquished power and right I gazed on him, a fragment from the first, A ruin vast, half builded here and curst,-- Perhaps full moulded in the eternal night. How may I show him? -- How his story plan Who was prefigured to the dreaming eye In term of other being? -- May he fill This mask of life? -- Or will my creature cry Shame that I dwarf the sequel and the man To house him thus within a fragment still? Thomas MacDonagh's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1197 |
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