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. Florentin
2. Vergniaud in the Tumbril
3. A Seventeenth-Century Song
4. Writ in My Lord Clarendon’s “History of the Rebellion”
5. Peter Rugg the Bostonian

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1764

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