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Too Late Had you but shown me living what you show, Now I am gone, to keep my grave-plot green, And I but known what vainly now I know, Lying here alone, how happy had I been! If you with smiles had gladdened our joint home, As now you drench my tenement with tears, Up life's ascent together had we clomb, And traversed hand-in-hand the slope of years. Still is it solacing to feel you lay Upon my sepulchre devoted flowers, When hitherward you wend your widowed way 'Neath scorching sunshine or through drifting showers. Pity that love is ofttimes forced by Fate, In this unpunctual World, to come-too late! Alfred Austin's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1455 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |