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William Cullen Bryant (Уильям Каллен Брайант) * * * I broke the spell that held me long, The dear, dear witchery of song. I said, the poet’s idle lore Shall waste my prime of years no more, For Poetry, though heavenly born, Consorts with poverty and scorn. I broke the spell–nor deemed its power Could fetter me another hour. Ah, thoughtless! how could I forget Its causes were around me yet? For wheresoe’er I looked, the while, Was Nature’s everlasting smile. Still came and lingered on my sight Of flowers and streams the bloom and light, And glory of the stars and sun; – And these and poetry are one. They, ere the world had held me long, Recalled me to the love of song. William Cullen Bryant's other poems:
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