Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг)

Comfort

SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet
From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so
Who art not missed by any that entreat.
Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet !
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber while I go
In reach of thy divinest voice complete
In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth,
To lose the sense of losing. As a child,
Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore
Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth
Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled,
He sleeps the faster that he wept before. 

1. The Holy Night
2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 30. I see thine image through my tears to-night
3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 40. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
4. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 23. Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead
5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 38. First time he kissed me, he but only kissed

Lewis Morris (Льюис Моррис) Comfort ("THO' love be bought and honour sold")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1975

Последние стихотворения

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