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Richard Chenevix Trench (Ричард Ченевикс Тренч) On the Results of the Last French Revolution How long shall weary nations toil in blood, How often roll the still returning stone Up the sharp painful height, ere they will own That on the base of individual good, Of virtue, manners, and pure homes endued With household graces--that on this alone Shall social freedom stand--where these are gone, There is a nation doomed to servitude? O suffering, toiling France, thy toil is vain! The irreversible decree stands sure, Where men are selfish, covetous of gain, Heady and fierce, unholy and impure, Their toil is lost, and fruitless all their pain; They cannot build a work which shall endure. Richard Chenevix Trench's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1234 |
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