William Butler Yeats (Уильям Батлер Йейтс)

A Woman Homer Sung

IF any man drew near
When I was young,
I thought, 'He holds her dear,'
And shook with hate and fear.
But O! 'twas bitter wrong
If he could pass her by
With an indifferent eye.
Whereon I wrote and wrought,
And now, being grey,
I dream that I have brought
To such a pitch my thought
That coming time can say,
'He shadowed in a glass
What thing her body was.'
For she had fiery blood
When I was young,
And trod so sweetly proud
As 'twere upon a cloud,
A woman Homer sung,
That life and letters seem
But an heroic dream.

1. The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water
2. The Rose of Peace
3. The Rose of Battle
4. The Ballad of Father Gilligan
5. The Rose of the World

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2070

Последние стихотворения

To English version