Чарльз Маккей (Charles Mackay)

Evermore - Nevermore

‘Wilt thou run to me for ever?’
Said the ocean to the river.
‘Will ye ever fall on my hills and plains?’
Said the dry land to the rains.
‘Will ye ever blossom while I sing?’
Said the lark to the flowers of spring.
‘Will ye ever ripen while I shine?’
Said the sun to the corn and vine.
And ever the answer the breezes bore
Was, ‘Evermore—for Evermore.’

‘As long as all these things shall be,’
Said I, to Rosa kissing me,
‘Shall Truth be sharper than a sword?
Shall kindness be its own reward?
Shall a free heart smooth the roughest way?
Shall Hope shed light on the darkest day?
Shall tempests spare the reeds that bow,
And thou love me as thou lovest now?’
And ever the answer her sweet lips bore
Was, ‘Evermore—for evermore.’

‘But shall I ever come back from thee?’
Said the river to the sea;
‘Or I?’ said the flower that Rosa threw
Into its waters bright and blue.
‘Will ye bloom again on the summer eyes?’
Said the tree to its withered leaves.
‘Wilt thou fall again when the north winds blow?’
Said the grass to the melting snow.
And ever the answer the breezes bore
Was, ‘Nevermore—oh, nevermore.’

‘If such the rule beneath the skies,’
Said Rosa, gazing in my eyes,
‘Shall Duty quit the debt we owe her,
Or blisses fail the bliss bestower?
Shall a miser's heart be improved by his gold?
Shall the wealth of love be ever told?
Or thou prove false to the tender vow
Thou swearest and repeatest now?’
And aye the answer my true lips bore
Was ‘Nevermore—oh, nevermore.’

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