William Barnes (Уильям Барнс)

Second Collection. The Motherless Child

The zun’d a-zet back tother night,
 But in the zettèn pleäce
The clouds, a-redden’d by his light,
 Still glow’d avore my feäce.
An’ I’ve a-lost my Meäry’s smile,
I thought; but still I have her chile,
Zoo like her, that my eyes can treäce
The mother’s in her daughter’s feäce.
 O little feäce so near to me,
An’ like thy mother’s gone; why need I zay
Sweet night cloud, wi’ the glow o’ my lost day,
 Thy looks be always dear to me.
The zun’d a-zet another night;
 But, by the moon on high,
He still did zend us back his light
 Below a cwolder sky.
My Meäry’s in a better land
I thought, but still her chile’s at hand,
An’ in her chile she’ll zend me on
Her love, though she herzelf’s a-gone.
 O little chile so near to me,
An’ like thy mother gone; why need I zay,
Sweet moon, the messenger vrom my lost day,
 Thy looks be always dear to me.

1. Third Collection. Early Plaÿmeäte
2. Third Collection. Naighbour Plaÿmeätes
3. Third Collection. The Wind in the Woone’s Feäce
4. Second Collection. John an’ Thomas
5. Second Collection. The Turn o’ the Days

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1766

Последние стихотворения

To English version