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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Murmurs in the Gloom Nocturne I wayfared at the nadir of the sun Where populations meet, though seen of none; And millions seemed to sigh around As though their haunts were nigh around, And unknown throngs to cry around Of things late done. ‘O Seers, who well might high ensample show’ (Came throbbing past in plainsong small and slow), ‘Leaders who lead us aimlessly, Teachers who train us shamelessly, Why let ye smoulder flamelessly The truths ye trow? ‘Ye scribes, that urge the old medicament, Whose fusty vials have long dried impotent, Why prop ye meretricious things, Denounce the sane as vicious things, And call outworn factitious things Expedient? ‘O Dynasties that sway and shake us so, Why rank your magnanimities so low That grace can smooth no waters yet, But breathing threats and slaughters yet Ye grieve Earth’s sons and daughters yet As long ago? ‘Live there no heedful ones of searching sight, Whose accents might be oracles that smite To hinder those who frowardly Conduct us, and untowardly; To lead the nations vawardly From gloom to light?’ 22 September 1899 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1404 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |