|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Dame of Athelhall I ‘Dear! Shall I see thy face,’ she said, ‘In one brief hour! And away with thee from a loveless bed To a far-off sun, to a vine-wrapt bower, And be thine own unseparated, And challenge the world’s white glower?’ II She quickened her feet, and met him where They had predesigned: And they clasped, and mounted, and cleft the air Upon whirling wheels; till the will to bind Her life with his made the moments there Efface the years behind. III Miles slid, and the port uprose to view As they sped on; When slipping its bond the bracelet flew From her fondled arm. Replaced anon, Its cameo of the abjured one drew Her musings thereupon. IV The gaud with his image once had been A gift from him: And so it was that its carving keen Refurbished memories wearing dim, Which set in her soul a twinge of teen, And a tear on her lashes’ brim. V ‘I may not go!’ she at length outspake, ‘Thoughts call me back – I would still lose all for your dear, true sake; My heart is thine, friend! But my track Home, home to Athelhall I must take To hinder household wrack!’ VI He was wroth. And they parted, weak and wan; And he left the shore; His ship diminished, was low, was gone; And she heard in the waves as the daytide wore, And read in the leer of the sun that shone, That they parted for evermore. VII She homed as she came, at the dip of eve On Athel Coomb Regaining the Hall she had sworn to leave. The house was soundless as a tomb, And she stole to her chamber, there to grieve Lone, kneeling, in the gloom. VIII From the lawn without rose her husband’s voice To one his friend: ‘Another her Love, another my choice, Her going is good. Our conditions mend; In a change of mates we shall both rejoice; I hoped that it thus might end! IX ‘A quick divorce; she will make him hers, And I wed mine. So Time rights all things in long, long years – Or rather she, by her bold design! I admire a woman no balk deters: She has blessed my life, in fine. X ‘I shall build new rooms for my new true bride, Let the bygone be: By now, no doubt, she has crossed the tide With the man to her mind. Far happier she In some warm vineland by his side Than ever she was with me.’ Thomas Hardy's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1497 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |