Thomas Hood (Томас Гуд (Худ))

Verses in an Album

Far above the hollow
Tempest, and its moan,
Singeth bright Apollo
In his golden zone,--
Cloud doth never shade him,
Nor a storm invade him,
On his joyous throne.

So when I behold me
In an orb as bright,
How thy soul doth fold me
In its throne of light!
Sorrow never paineth,
Nor a care attaineth
To that blessed height.

1. The Boy at the Nore
2. Ballad (She's up and gone, the graceless girl)
3. The Departure of Summer
4. To My Daughter on Her Birthday
5. Sonnet for the 14th of February

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1836

Последние стихотворения

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