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Hilaire Belloc (Хилар Беллок)


September


I, from a window where the Meuse is wide,
Looked eastward out to the September night;
The men that in the hopeless battle died
Rose, and deployed, and stationed for the fight;
A brumal army, vague and ordered large
For mile on mile by some pale general,-
I saw them lean by companies to the charge,
But no man living heard the bugle-call.

And fading still, and pointing to their scars,
They fled in lessening clouds, where gray and high
Dawn lay along the heaven in misty bars;
But watching from that eastern casement, I
Saw the Republic splendid in the sky,
And round her terrible head the morning stars.



Hilaire Belloc's other poems:
  1. Because My Faltering Feet
  2. Charles Augustus Fortescue
  3. Ha’nacker Mill
  4. Hildebrand
  5. Ballade to Our Lady of Czestochowa


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Hartley Coleridge (Хартли Кольридж) September ("THE dark green Summer, with its massive hues")
  • Thomas Tusser (Томас Тассер) September ("Thresh seed and go fan, for the plow may not lie")
  • Madison Cawein (Мэдисон Кавейн) September ("The bubbled blue of morning-glory spires")
  • Archibald Lampman (Арчибальд Лемпман) September ("Now hath the summer reached her golden close")
  • John Payne (Джон Пейн) September ("HOW is the world of Summer's splendours shorn!")
  • Lucy Montgomery (Люси Монтгомери) September ("Lo! a ripe sheaf of many golden days")
  • George Arnold (Джордж Арнольд) September ("Sweet is the voice that calls")

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