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Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон) To a Child Whenas my life shall time with funeral tread The heavy death-drum of the beaten hours, Following, sole mourner, mine own manhood dead, Poor forgot corse, where not a maid strows flowers; When I you love am no more I you love, But go with unsubservient feet, behold Your dear face through changed eyes, all grim change prove;-- A new man, mock-ed with misname of old; When shamed Love keep his ruined lodging, elf! When, ceremented in mouldering memory, Myself is hears-ed underneath myself, And I am but the monument of me:- O to that tomb be tender then, which bears Only the name of him it sepulchres! Francis Thompson's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1246 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |