|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
Hartley Coleridge (Хартли Кольридж) Christmas Day WAS it a fancy, bred of vagrant guess, Or well-remember'd fact, that He was born When half the world was wintry and forlorn, In Nature's utmost season of distress? And did the simple earth indeed confess Its destitution and its craving need, Wearing the white and penitential weed, Meet symbol of judicial barrenness? So be it; for in truth 'tis ever so, That when the winter of the soul is bare, The seed of heaven at first begins to grow, Peeping abroad in desert of despair. Full many a floweret, good, and sweet, and fair, Is kindly wrapp'd in coverlet of snow. , Or well-remember'd fact, that He was born When half the world was wintry and forlorn, In Nature's utmost season of distress? And did the simple earth indeed confess Its destitution and its craving need, Wearing the white and penitential weed, Meet symbol of judicial barrenness? So be it; for in truth 'tis ever so, That when the winter of the soul is bare, The seed of heaven at first begins to grow, Peeping abroad in desert of despair. Full many a floweret, good, and sweet, and fair, Is kindly wrapp'd in coverlet of snow. Hartley Coleridge's other poems:
Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1471 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |