Hilaire Belloc (Хилар Беллок)

September

I, from a window where the Meuse is wide,
Looked eastward out to the September night;
The men that in the hopeless battle died
Rose, and deployed, and stationed for the fight;
A brumal army, vague and ordered large
For mile on mile by some pale general,-
I saw them lean by companies to the charge,
But no man living heard the bugle-call.

And fading still, and pointing to their scars,
They fled in lessening clouds, where gray and high
Dawn lay along the heaven in misty bars;
But watching from that eastern casement, I
Saw the Republic splendid in the sky,
And round her terrible head the morning stars.

1. On the Little God
2. To the Balliol Men Still in Africa
3. The Dromedary
4. Time Cures All
5. Courtesy

Madison Cawein (Мэдисон Кавейн) September ("The bubbled blue of morning-glory spires")

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1954

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