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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Midnight on Beechen On Beechen Cliff self-commune I This night of mid-June, mute and dry; When darkness never rises higher Than Bath’s dim concave, towers, and spire, Last eveglow loitering in the sky To feel the dawn, close lurking by, The while the lamps as glow-worms lie In a glade, myself their lonely eyer On Beechen Cliff: The city sleeps below. I sigh, For there dwells one, all testify, To match the maddest dream’s desire: What swain with her would not aspire To walk the world, yea, sit but nigh On Beechen Cliff! Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1363 |
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