Английская поэзия

ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл)

The Young Neophyte

Who knows what days I answer for to-day?
    Giving the bud I give the flower. I bow
    This yet unfaded and a faded brow;
Bending these knees and feeble knees, I pray.

Thoughts yet unripe in me I bend one way,
    Give one repose to pain I know not now,
    One check to joy that comes, I guess not how.
I dedicate my fields when Spring is grey.

O rash! (I smile) to pledge my hidden wheat.
    I fold to-day at altars far apart
Hands trembling with what toils? In their retreat

    I seal my love to-be, my folded art.
I light the tapers at my head and feet,
    And lay the crucifix on this silent heart.

Alice Meynell's other poems:
  1. Singers to Come
  2. The Roaring Frost
  3. To O——, of Her Dark Eyes
  4. In Sleep
  5. Free Will

Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1095

Последние стихотворения

To English version


Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru