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Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) The Wonders I dream of the ancient wonders, of the isle of Hy Brasail That rides through the mists of Mayo, then fades like a fading sail; I dream of the ancient wonders, but there ’s one that haunts me more, ’T is the faun-like grace of Moira upon Lough Corib’s shore. I dream of the ancient wonders, of the wells of Death and Life, Of the voices of the Forest that quell both hate and strife; I dream of the ancient wonders, but greater than them all Is the luring laugh of Moira when day ’s at evenfall. I dream of the ancient wonders, of the Cross caught up in air, Of the swan of sweet Feale Water that was a maiden fair; I dream of the ancient wonders, but each fades in eclipse At the lifted arms of Moira, and Moira’s lifted lips! Clinton Scollard's other poems: ![]() Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1313 |
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