|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
James Thomas Fields (Джеймс Томас Филдс) Ballad of the Tempest WE were crowded in the cabin, Not a soul would dare to sleep,-- It was midnight on the waters, And a storm was on the deep. 'Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered by the blast, And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, "Cut away the mast!" So we shuddered there in silence,-- For the stoutest held his breath, While the hungry sea was roaring And the breakers talked with death. As thus we sat in darkness Each one busy with his prayers, "We are lost!" the captain shouted, As he staggered down the stairs. But his little daughter whispered, As she took his icy hand, "Isn't God upon the ocean, Just the same as on the land?" Then we kissed the little maiden, And we spake in better cheer, And we anchored safe in harbor When the morn was shining clear. James Thomas Fields's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1324 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |