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William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз)
On Leaving a Village in Scotland
Clysdale! as thy romantic vales I leave,
And bid farewell to each retiring hill,
Where musing memory seems to linger still,
Tracing the broad bright landscape; much I grieve
That, mingled with the toiling crowd, no more
I may return your varied views to mark,
Of rocks amid the sunshine towering dark,
Of rivers winding wild,[1] or mountains hoar,
Or castle gleaming on the distant steep!--
Yet many a look back on thy hills I cast,
And many a softened image of the past
Sadly combine, and bid remembrance keep,
To soothe me with fair scenes, and fancies rude,
When I pursue my path in solitude.
[1] There is a wildness almost fantastic in the view of the river from Stirling Castle, the course of which is seen for many miles, making a thousand turnings.William Lisle Bowles's other poems:
Распечатать (To print)Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1602
Английская поэзия