Ralph Waldo Emerson (Ральф Уолдо Эмерсон)

The Past

The debt is paid,
The verdict said,
The Furies laid,
The plague is stayed,
All fortunes made;
Turn the key and bolt the door,
Sweet is death forevermore.
Nor haughty hope, nor swart chagrin,
Nor murdering hate, can enter in.
All is now secure and fast;
Not the gods can shake the Past;
Flies-to the adamantine door
Bolted down forevermore.
None can re-enter there,—
No thief so politic,
No Satan with a royal trick
Steal in by window, chink, or hole,
To bind or unbind, add what lacked,
Insert a leaf, or forge a name,
New-face or finish what is packed,
Alter or mend eternal Fact. 

1. To Rhea
2. To J.W.
3. Mithridates
4. Uriel
5. The Problem

Ella Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) The Past ("Fling my past behind me, like a robe")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1483

Последние стихотворения

To English version