Текст оригинала на английском языке * * * [Note: Air--``I'd mourn the hopes that leave me;'' Or, ``A rose tree in full bearing.''] ``Oh, well I love to see thee So bravely look, my only boy-- But thy courage--can it free thee? Alas, alas, it may destroy! 'Twas in your father's eye, boy, The day they dragg'd him by our door, A shameful death to die, boy, Ere thee to him thy mother bore!'' ``They shall not drag me, mother, Like him, unto the gallows tree-- They shall not tear another, The last and only one, from thee; And yet shall they restore me The rights they've robb'd from him and me, Or else--while Heaven is o'er me-- A worse foe than my father see!'' ``What mean you now, my own boy? Your death upon their fighting field Would leave me all as lone, boy, As any which their hate can yield!'' ``Mother, I do not fear them, Even should they dare the worst they could; Yet never will I cheer them A challenge to their strife of blood!'' ``And how then win your own, boy, Though pure and high your quarrel stands, From their stern hearts of stone, boy, And from their griping iron hands?'' ``A battle still must win it! A battle, mother, they shall rue, Although no blood flow in it, To make the widow childless too!'' |
Английская поэзия - http://eng-poetry.ru/. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |