|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
Edward Rowland Sill (Эдвард Роулэнд Силл) The Coup De Grace IF I were very sure That all was over betwixt you and me— That, while this endless absence I endure With but one mood, one dream, one misery Of waiting, you were happier to be free,— Then I might find again In cloud and stream and all the winds that blow, Yea, even in the faces of my fellow-men, The old companionship; and I might know Once more the pulse of action, ere I go. But now I cannot rest, While this one pleading, querulous tone without Breaks in and mars the music in my breast. I open the closed door—lo! all about, What seem your lingering footprints; then I doubt. Waken me from this sleep! Strike fearless, let the naked truth-edge gleam! For while the beautiful old past I keep, I am a phantom, and all mortals seem But phantoms, and my life fades as a dream. Edward Rowland Sill's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1199 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |