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Lewis Morris (Льюис Моррис)


OH, hark ! the languid air is still,
The fields and woods seem hushed and dumb.
But listen, and you shall hear a thrill,
An inner voice of silence come,
Stray notes of birds, the hum of bees,
The brook's light gossip on its way,
Voices of children heard at play,
Leaves whispering of a coming breeze.

Oh, look ! the sea is fallen asleep,
The sail hangs idle evermore ;
Yet refluent from the outer deep,
The low wave sobs upon the shore.
Silent the dark cave ebbs and fills,
Silent the broad weeds wave and sway ;
Yet yonder fairy fringe of spray
Is born of surges vast as hills.

Oh, see ! the sky is deadly dark,
There shines not moon nor any star ;
But gaze awhile, and you shall mark
Some gleam of glory from afar :
Some half-hid planet's vagrant ray ;
Some lightning flash which wakes the world ;
Night's pirate banner slowly furled ;
And, eastward, some faint flush of day. 

Lewis Morris's other poems:
  1. Waking
  2. The Apology
  3. A Yorkshire River
  4. A Hymn in Time of Idols
  5. A Cynic's Day-Dream

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