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Rupert Chawner Brooke (Руперт Брук)

The Dance

            A Song

   As the Wind, and as the Wind,
       In a corner of the way,
   Goes stepping, stands twirling,
   Invisibly, comes whirling,
   Bows before, and skips behind,
     In a grave, an endless play--

   So my Heart, and so my Heart,
       Following where your feet have gone,
   Stirs dust of old dreams there;
   He turns a toe; he gleams there,
   Treading you a dance apart.
     But you see not. You pass on.

April 1915

Rupert Chawner Brooke's other poems:
  1. Lines Written in the Belief That the Ancient Roman Festival of the Dead Was Called Ambarvalia
  2. The Funeral of Youth: Threnody
  3. On the Death of Smet-Smet, the Hippopotamus-Goddess
  4. Fragment on Painters
  5. Song (All suddenly the wind comes soft)

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

  • Henry Livingston (Генри Ливингстон) The Dance ("Take the name of the swain, a forlorn witless elf")

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