Уильям Топаз Макгонаголл (William Topaz McGonagall)




Текст оригинала на английском языке

The Death of John Brown


Dedicated Expressly to Her Most Gracious Majesty

Alas! faithful John Brown he is dead,
Who often did the heather tread
By the side of his most gracious Queen,
Near by Balmoral Palace and its pine trees so green.

I hope he now traverses that Heavenly Shore
Where peace, love and joy does last for evermore;
In that happy land of bliss where the Sun shines bright,
Where God’s family adores Him day and night.

He now lies buried in Crathie Churchyard,
And Her Majesty had for him a great regard,
Because he was her faithful servant for many years,
And at his grave betimes, no doubt, she will shed tears.

He was a man of honesty and trust,
But his body now lies mouldering in the dust;
But such is the doom of all mankind,
From the king to the beggar, and also the hind.

He was modest and manly in his way,
A kind of shy and had little to say;
But he was loving and true to his Queen at the heart,
And he was ever ready to take her part.

He was a man of most stately mein
And most handsome to be seen,
And ever watchful of his Queen
By mountain, and lake, or forest green.

A Glengary Bonnet and Kilt did his body adorn,
Which enhanced the beauty of his form;
And at Crathie was he born,
Where the pine trees grow, and yellow corn.

I’m sure her Majesty will miss him now,
As she wanders by the mountains’ brow,
And among the bonnie highland floral,
Near by the river Dee and the Palace of Balmoral.

He wont to cheer her Majesty by the way,
As cheerfully together they did stray
Among the bonnie, highland, heathery hills,
To view their clear, crystal, sparkling rills.

Strength and courage he did not lack-
Many times he carried the Queen upon his back
O’er little rivulets, and waters wide,
And the marshy grounds by the hillside.

Her Majesty, now, will feel a great loss,
Because she has no one, now, to carry her across
The marshy grounds, or the boggy moss;
Therefore the world to her will seem as dross.

No doubt her spirits will be cast down
For the loss of her faithful servant, John Brown,
Who wont to fill her heart with glee,
While hunting the wild deer on the banks of the Dee.

But the best of friends, ’tis said must part!
Therefore, I hope her Majesty will keep up her heart,
And no longer lament the death of John Brown,
For fear the Almighty does on her frown;

Because He gives us life, and He takes it away,
And watches all His creatures by night and by day;
So, therefore, let her put all her trust in Him,
And He will fill her heart with joy to the brim.

I hope God will be her Comforter by night and by day,
At home, and abroad, when she’s far away,
And in her daily walks around Balmoral,
As she views mountain and lake, and the bonnie highland floral.

God Save Our Gracious Queen and long may she reign;
And let all subjects say, Amen!–
For she is a generous Queen, indeed,
And ready to help the poor when they are in need.





Поддержать сайт


Английская поэзия - http://eng-poetry.ru/. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru