Coventry Patmore (Ковентри Патмор (Пэтмор))

Magna Est Veritas

Here, in this little Bay,
Full of tumultuous life and great repose,
Where, twice a day,
The purposeless, gay ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world's course will not fail:
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not. 

1. The Rosy Bosom’d Hours
2. If I Were Dead
3. Semele
4. Unthrift
5. The Barren Shore

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1292

Последние стихотворения

To English version