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Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
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Felix Antonius (After Martial) To-day, my friend is seventy-five; He tells his tale with no regret; His brave old eyes are steadfast yet, His heart the .lightest heart alive. He sees behind him green and wide The pathway of his pilgrim years; He sees the shore, and dreadless hears The whisper of the creeping tide. For out of all his days, not one Has passed and left its unlaid ghost To seek a light for ever lost, Or wail a deed for ever done. So for reward of life-long truth He lives again, as good men can, Redoubling his allotted span With memories of a stainless youth. Henry Newbolt's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1242 |
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