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Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal (Элизабет Элеонор Сиддал) The Lust of the Eyes I care not for my Lady’s soul Though I worship before her smile; I care not where be my Lady’s goal When her beauty shall lose its wile. Low sit I down at my Lady’s feet Gazing through her wild eyes Smiling to think how my love will fleet When their starlike beauty dies. I care not if my Lady pray To our Father which is in Heaven But for joy my heart’s quick pulses play For to me her love is given. Then who shall close my Lady’s eyes And who shall fold her hands? Will any hearken if she cries Up to the unknown lands? Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1364 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |