Robert Laurence Binyon (Роберт Лоренс Биньон)

* * *

A child in nature, as a child in years,
If on past hours she turn remembering eyes,
She but beholds sweet joys or gentle tears,
Flower hiding flower in her pure memories.

So flower--like, so lovely do they seem:
Too fair to be let die, they fade too fast;
Not like that hopeless beauty, which in dream
Is ever present, but to say 'tis past.

Then should I come with sorrow at my breast,
Profitless sorrow, vainly wished away,
Will she give comfort to my heart's unrest,
She, whose bright years are as a morn of May?

Though I should sigh, I could not choose but cheer,
Knowing Joy is not far, when she is near.

1. One Year Old
2. Men of Verdun
3. The Way Home
4. Beautifully Dies the Year
5. As in the Dusty Lane to Fern or Flower

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