Robert Laurence Binyon (Роберт Лоренс Биньон)

Nothing Is Enough!

No, though our all be spent—
Heart's extremest love,
Spirit's whole intent,
All that nerve can feel,
All that brain invent,—
Still beyond appeal
Will Divine Desire
Yet more excellent
Precious cost require
Of this mortal stuff,—
Never be content
Till ourselves be fire.
Nothing is enough! 

1. One Year Old
2. Now That I Have Won
3. The Way Home
4. As in the Dusty Lane to Fern or Flower
5. O World, Be Nobler

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1799

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