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Thomas Bailey Aldrich (Томас Бейли Олдрич) Batuschka From yonder gilded minaret Beside the steel-blue Neva set, I faintly catch, from time to time, The sweet, aerial midnight chime— "God save the Tsar!" Above the ravelins and the moats Of the white citadel it floats; And men in dungeons far beneath Listen, and pray, and gnash their teeth— "God save the Tsar!" The soft reiterations sweep Across the horrer of their sleep, As if some dæmon in his glee Were mocking at their misery— "God save the Tsar!" In his Red Palace over there, Wakeful, he needs must hear the prayer. How can it drown the broken cries Wrung from his children's agonies?— "God save the Tsar!" Father they called him from of old— Batuschka! . . . How his heart is cold! Wait till a million scourgëd men Rise in their awful might, and then God save the Tsar! Thomas Bailey Aldrich's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1255 |
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