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Caroline Fry (Wilson) (Каролина Фрай (Уилсон)) To a Friend Behold you the beam On yonder tide, As it gently plays On the vessel's side? The white sails are spread, And the anchor heaves, And the mariner looks Towards the home he leaves. Now swiftly she flies Through the evening gale, And the bright moon-beam Is on her sail; Like some tall spectre, Unstable and light, She silently steals Through the shadows of night. And they are gone To some distant sphere; But the bright moon-beam Will still be there, To light their steps On a foreign shore, While it shines on the home They must see no more. So the self-same beam Of celestial light Shall gild the shades Of our distant night; And our spirits shall meet, When forbidden here, Above yon pale moon's Silvery sphere. There our hearts, asunder So harshly riven, Shall unite their prayers Ere they reach to heaven; And a beam from mercy's Exhaustless store Be bright on us both When we meet no more. Caroline Fry (Wilson)'s other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1228 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |