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Louisa Sarah Bevington (Луиза Сара Бевингтон) One New Year's Eve Heart! art thou dead within me? Why this calm To see thy joy die with the dying year? When more is fact than ever thou didst fear Of all thou would'st not have of hurt and harm; When less than thou hadst pictured is of balm In uttermost surrender; when more dear Seems that thou hast surrendered, now and here, Than ever aught before? Why no alarm To face the blank black morning of to-morrow With not one partisan for thine own sorrow? Why canst thou smile, O silly heart! to see The cold strewn ruin of the life of thee? Haply yet more than love's dear joy lies dead,-- Thy very self of self that suffered? Louisa Sarah Bevington's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1290 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |