Dante Gabriel Rossetti (Данте Габриэль Россетти)

Words on the Window-Pane

DID she in summer write it, or in spring,
Or with this wail of autumn at her ears,
Or in some winter left among old years
Scratched it through tettered cark? A certain thing
That round her heart the frost was hardening,
Not to be thawed of tears, which on this pane
Channelled the rime, perchance, in fevered rain,
For false man's sake and love's most bitter sting.
Howbeit, between this last word and the next
Unwritten, subtly seasoned was the smart,
And here at least the grace to weep: if she,
Rather, midway in her disconsolate text,
Rebelled not, loathing from the trodden heart
That thing which she had found man's love to be. 

1. Last Sonnets at Paris
2. The House of Life. Sonnet 17. Beauty's Pageant
3. The House of Life. Sonnet 61. The Song-Throe
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 32. Equal Troth
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 48. Death-in-Love

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1462

Последние стихотворения

To English version