Роберт Саути (Robert Southey)

Corston

AS thus I stand beside the murmuring stream,
And watch its current, Memory here portrays
Scenes faintly formed of half-forgotten days,
Like far-off woodlands by the moon’s bright beam
Dimly descried, but lovely. I have worn
Amid these haunts the heavy hours away,
When childhood idled through the sabbath day;
Risen to my tasks at winter’s earliest morn;
And, when the summer twilight darkened here,
Thinking of home, and all of heart forlorn,
Have sighed, and shed in secret many a tear.
Dreamlike and indistinct those days appear,
As the faint sounds of this low brooklet, borne
Upon the breeze, reach fitfully the ear.

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