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Dinah Maria Craik (Дина Мария Крейк) Sunday Morning Bells FROM the near city comes the clang of bells: Their hundred jarring diverse tones combine In one faint misty harmony, as fine As the soft note yon winter robin swells.-- What if to Thee in Thine Infinity These multiform and many-colored creeds Seem but the robe man wraps as masquers' weeds Round the one living truth Thou givest him--Thee? What if these varied forms that worship prove, Being heart-worship, reach Thy perfect ear But as a monotone, complete and clear, Of which the music is, through Christ's name, Love? Forever rising in sublime increase To 'Glory in the Highest,--on earth peace?' Dinah Maria Craik's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1238 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |