Donald Robert Perry Marquis (Дональд Роберт Перри Маркиз)

The Birth

There is a legend that the love of God
So quickened under Mary's heart it wrought
Her very maidenhood to holier stuff. . . .
However that may be, the birth befell
Upon a night when all the Syrian stars
Swayed tremulous before one lordlier orb
That rose in gradual splendor,
Paused,
Flooding the firmament with mystic light,
And dropped upon the breathing hills
A sudden music
Like a distillation from its gleams;
A rain of spirit and a dew of song! 

1. A Nightmare
2. New York
3. A Mood of Pavlowa
4. They Had No Poet …
5. The Triolet

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1585

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