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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) England to Germany in 1914 ‘O England, may God punish thee!’ – Is it that Teuton genius flowers Only to breathe malignity Upon its friend of earlier hours? – We have eaten your bread, you have eaten ours, We have loved your burgs, your pines’ green moan, Fair Rhine-stream, and its storied towers; Your shining souls of deathless dowers Have won us as they were our own: We have nursed no dreams to shed your blood, We have matched your might not rancorously Save a flushed few whose blatant mood You heard and marked as well as we To tongue not in their country’s key; But yet you cry with face aflame, ‘O England, may God punish thee!’ And foul in onward history, And present sight, your ancient name. Autumn 1914 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1454 |
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