Stephen Vincent Benet (Стивен Винсент Бене)

A Minor Poet

I am a shell. From me you shall not hear 
The splendid tramplings of insistent drums, 
The orbed gold of the viol’s voice that comes, 
Heavy with radiance, languorous and clear. 
Yet, if you hold me close against the ear, 
A dim, far whisper rises clamorously, 
The thunderous beat and passion of the sea, 
The slow surge of the tides that drown the mere. 

Others with subtle hands may pluck the strings, 
Making even Love in music audible, 
And earth one glory. I am but a shell 
That moves, not of itself, and moving sings; 
Leaving a fragrance, faint as wine new-shed, 
A tremulous murmur from great days long dead.

1. Thanks
2. Nomenclature
3. Daniel Boone
4. Evening and Morning
5. All Night Long

Amelia Burr (Амелия Берр) A Minor Poet ("The firefly, flickering about")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1861

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