Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон)

A Song

It means so little to you
To sing a note as you pass,
To smile your thanks to the day
For donning its cloudless blue
And then to go your way,
And leave behind in the grass
The print of your little shoe
Or a petal dropt from your rose
And your touch on the vine that grows
Over my cottage door:
It is nothing at all to you.

But to me, it is alms to the poor,
And the light of day to the blind,
And hope to the desolate;
Though you never have once glanced through
The window where, half-defined,
Half-hidden, I watch and wait--
For it means so little to you.

1. Sonnets. 9. Love Needs not Two the Render It Complete
2. Sonnets. 10. What is this anguish then that always stands
3. The Reflection
4. Apollo in Pherae
5. Sonnets. 16. O lovely life, how you have worn me out

Helen Williams (Хелен Уильямс) A Song ("No riches from his scanty store")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1485

Последние стихотворения

To English version