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Anonymous ( Неизвестный автор) The Aisle of Tombs The interior of Chester-le-Street Church, Durham, contains a singular collection of monuments, bearing effigies of the deceased ancestry of the Lumley family, from the time of Liulphus to the reign of Queen Elizabeth. THE QUIET and the chillness Of the aisle of tombs; The shadow and the stillness A rosy light illumes: Like the memory of the past, On the carvéd arms delaying, On the marble pall O’er the blood-red scutcheon playing With a crimson fall, Into sudden sunshine cast Are the ancient warriors, The warriors of olden time. So with kindled heart we love them, Dwelling on their fame; So doth memory fling above them Its shadow of a name, Noblest shadow flung on earth: We remember many a story Of the old chivalric day, When the red-cross, like a glory, Shone above the fray; ’T was a glorious age gave birth To the ancient warriors, The warriors of olden time. Though the sword no more be trusted As it was of old, Though the shining spear be rusted And the right hand cold, They have left their fame behind; Still a spirit from their slumbers Rises true and brave, Asks the minstrel for his numbers, Music from their grave: Noble, gentle, valiant, kind, Were the ancient warriors, The warriors of olden time. All their meaner part hath perished, In the earth at rest; And the present hour hath cherished What of them was best. What a knight should be we keep. For the present doth inherit All the glories of the past; We retain what was its spirit, While its dust to dust is cast. All good angels guard the sleep Of the ancient warriors, The warriors of olden time. Anonymous's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1208 |
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