Amy Levy (Эми Леви)

In the Night

Cruel? I think there never was a cheating
More cruel, thro’ all the weary days than this!
This is no dream, my heart kept on repeating,
But sober certainty of waking bliss.

Dreams? O, I know their faces -- goodly seeming,
Vaporous, whirled on many-coloured wings;
I have had dreams before, this is no dreaming,
But daylight gladness that the daylight brings.

What ails my love; what ails her? She is paling;
Faint grows her face, and slowly seems to fade!
I cannot clasp her--stretch out unavailing
My arms across the silence and the shade.

1. To a Dead Poet
2. Youth and Love
3. A Wall Flower
4. Lohengrin
5. The First Extra

Menella Smedley (Менелла Смедли) In the Night ("Across the moon the beech-tree weaves")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1823

Последние стихотворения

To English version