William Allingham (Вильям Аллингам)

* * *

These little Songs,
Found here and there,
Floating in air
By forest and lea,
Or hill-side heather,
In houses and throngs,
Or down by the sea -
Have come together,
How, I can't tell:
But I know full well
No witty goose-wing
On an inkstand begot 'em;
Remember each place
And moment of grace,
In summer or spring,
Winter or autumn
By sun, moon, stars,
Or a coal in the bars,
In market or church,
Graveyard or dance,
When they came without search,
Were found as by chance.
A word, a line,
You may say are mine;
But the best in the songs,
Whatever it be,
To you, and to me,
And to no one belongs.

1. Wayconnell Tower
2. A Burial-place
3. In Highgate Cemetery
4. To the Castle of Donegal
5. The Emigrant’s Adieu to Ballyshannon

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1959

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