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Charles Hanson Towne (Чарльз Хэнсон Таун) A Distant Spring I who love the Spring so well Shall be sleeping, some glad day, When her hosts come back to dwell In their old, familiar way. I shall live, alas! no more In some distant April hour, When the Spring finds wide her door, Calling leaf, and bloom, and flower. I shall sleep--but I shall dream In my home beneath the ground, And my slumbering heart shall teem With its visions deep, profound. I shall know, ere you will guess (Though with life I have no part), What new golden loveliness Stirs within the old earth's heart. I shall hear the first soft sound When the Spring is born anew, And rejoice, beneath the ground, At the bliss to come to you. And the dreams that I shall dream, In that Spring when I am dead, May arise until they seem Blossoms white and blossoms red! Charles Hanson Towne's other poems: Распечатать (To print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1241 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |