Дина Мария Крейк (Dinah Maria Craik) Текст оригинала на английском языке Cousin Robert O COUSIN Robert, far away Among the lands of gold, How many years since we two met?-- You would not like it told. O cousin Robert, buried deep Amid your bags of gold-- I thought I saw you yesternight Just as you were of old. You own whole leagues--I half a rood Behind my cottage door; You have your lacs of gold rupees, And I my children four; Your tall barques dot the dangerous seas, My 'ship's come home'--to rest Safe anchored from the storms of life Upon one faithful breast. And it would cause no start or sigh, Nor thought of doubt or blame, If I should teach our little son His cousin Robert's name.-- That name, however wide it rings, I oft think, when alone, I rather would have seen it graved Upon a churchyard stone-- Upon the white sunshining stone Where cousin Alick lies: Ah, sometimes, woe to him that lives! Happy is he that dies! O Robert, Robert, many a tear-- Though not the tears of old-- Drops, thinking of your face last night Your hand's remembered fold; A young man's face, so like, so like Our mothers' faces fair: A young man's hand, so firm to clasp, So resolute to dare. I thought you good--I wished you great; You were my hope, my pride: To know you good, to make you great I once had happy died. To tear the plague-spot from your heart, Place honor on your brow, See old age come in crownèd peace-- I almost would die now! Would give--all that's now mine to give-- To have you sitting there, The cousin Robert of my youth-- Though beggar'd, with gray hair. O Robert, Robert, some that live Are dead, long ere they are old; Better the pure heart of our youth Than palaces of gold; Better the blind faith of our youth Than doubt, which all truth braves; Better to mourn, God's children dear, Than laugh, the Devil's slaves. O Robert, Robert, life is sweet, And love is boundless gain: Yet if I mind of you, my heart Is stabbed with sudden pain: And as in peace this Christmas eve I close our quiet doors, And kiss 'good-night' on sleeping heads-- Such bonnie curls,--like yours: I fall upon my bended knees With sobs that choke each word;-- 'On those who err and are deceived Have mercy, O good Lord!' |
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