Walter John De la Mare (Уолтер Джон Де ла Мар)

In Vain

I knocked upon thy door ajar,
While yet the woods with buds were grey;
Nought but a little child I heard
    Warbling at break of day.

I knocked when June had lured her rose
To mask the sharpness of its thorn;
Knocked yet again, heard only yet
    Thee singing of the morn.

The frail convolvulus had wreathed
Its cup, but the faint flush of eve
Lingered upon thy Western wall;
    Thou hadst no word to give.

Once yet I came; the winter stars
Above thy house wheeled wildly bright;
Footsore I stood before thy door—
    Wide open into night.

1. Idleness
2. Truce
3. Vain Finding
4. The Universe
5. The Glimpse

Emily Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон) In Vain ("I Cannot Live with You")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1640

Последние стихотворения

To English version