Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард)

A Sailor Amid the Hills

  What does he hear in dreams? The surging wind,
    Its long-drawn cadence, its wild harmony,
  A mighty harp of infinite strings designed,
    Whose sound to him seems sweet immeasurably?
  Nay, nay, but through the spaces of his mind,
  Plangent or pleading, loud or low-defined,
    The ever-haunting murmur of the sea!

1. The Tides
2. Bag-Pipes at Sea
3. Muckross
4. An Exile
5. A Sea Rover

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1122

Последние стихотворения

To English version