Mathilde Blind (Матильда Блайнд)

In a Kentish Rose Garden

Beside a Dial in the leafy close,
Where every bush was burning with the Rose,
With million roses falling flake by flake
Upon the lawn in fading summer snows:

I read the Persian Poet's rhyme of old,
Each thought a ruby in a ring of gold—
Old thoughts so young, that, after all these years,
They're writ on every rose-leaf yet unrolled.

You may not know the secret tongue aright
The Sunbeams on their rosy tablets write;
Only a poet may perchance translate
Those ruby-tinted hieroglyphs of light.

1. Internal Firesides
2. Apple-Gathering
3. The Red Sunsets, 1883 (The twilight heavens are flushed with gathering light)
4. The Songs of Summer
5. What Magic Is There

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1663

Последние стихотворения

To English version