William Wordsworth (Уильям Вордсворт)

A Tradition of Oker Hill in Darley Dale, Derbyshire

’T IS said that to the brow of yon fair hill
Two brothers clomb, and, turning face from face,
Nor one look more exchanging, grief to still
Or feed, each planted on that lofty place
A chosen tree; then, eager to fulfil
Their courses, like two new-born rivers, they
In opposite directions urged their way
Down from the far-seen mount. No blast might kill
Or blight that fond memorial;—the trees grew,
And now entwine their arms; but ne’er again
Embraced those brothers upon earth’s wide plain;
Nor aught of mutual joy or sorrow knew,
Until their spirits mingled in the sea
That to itself takes all, Eternity.

1. Roman Antiquities
2. Inscription Intended for a Stone in the Grounds of Rydal Mount
3. Iona
4. Monument of Mrs. Howard
5. Filial Piety

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1315

Последние стихотворения

To English version