Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини)

The Yew-Tree

As I came homeward
At merry Christmas,
By the old church tower,
Through the churchyard grass,

And saw there, circled
With graves all about,
The yew-tree paternal,
The yew-tree devout,

Then this hot life-blood
Was hard to endure,
O Death! so I loved thee,
The sole love sure.

For stars slip in heaven,
They wander, they break:
But under the yew-tree
Not one heartache.

And ours, what failure
Renewed and avowed!
But ah, the long-buried
Is leal, and is proud.

Now I came homeward
At merry Christmas,
By the wise gray tower,
Through the green kind grass.

1. Friendship Broken
2. Tryste Noel
3. Heathenesse
4. For Izaak Walton
5. Writ in My Lord Clarendon’s “History of the Rebellion”

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1715

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