Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг)

Exaggeration

WE overstate the ills of life, and take
Imagination (given us to bring down
The choirs of singing angels overshone
By God's clear glory) down our earth to rake
The dismal snows instead, flake following flake,
To cover all the corn; we walk upon
The shadow of hills across a level thrown,
And pant like climbers: near the alder brake
We sigh so loud, the nightingale within
Refuses to sing loud, as else she would.
O brothers, let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly, in a plaintive mood,
The holy name of GRIEF !--holy herein
That by the grief of ONE came all our good. 

1. The Holy Night
2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 40. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 35. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
4. Rosalind's Scroll
5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 23. Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1912

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