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Caroline Anne Southey (Кэролайн Энн Саути) The Christian Pauper's Death-Bed Tread softly — bow the head — In rev'rent silence bow — No passing bell doth toll, Yet an immortal soul IS passing now. Stranger! however great, With lowly rev'rence bow; There's one in that poor shed — One by that paltry bed — Greater than thou. Beneath that beggar's roof, Lo! Death doth keep his state, Enter — no crowds attend — Enter — no guards defend This palace gate. That pavement, damp and cold, No smiling courtiers tread; One silent woman stands, Lifting with meagre hands A dying head. No mingling voices sound— An infant wail alone; A sob suppress'd — again That short deep gasp, and then — The parting groan. Oh! change — oh, wondrous change, Burst are the prison bars— This moment there, so low, So agonised — and now Beyond the stars. Oh! change — stupendous change! There lies the soulless clod; The sun eternal breaks — The new immortal wakes — Wakes with his God. Caroline Anne Southey's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1287 |
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