1 мин
Слушать(AI)Felix Antonius
(After Martial)To-day, my friend is seventy-five; He tells his tale with no regret; His brave old eyes are steadfast yet,
His heart the .lightest heart alive.
He sees behind him green and wide The pathway of his pilgrim years; He sees the shore, and dreadless
The whisper of the creeping tide.
For out of all his days, not one Has passed and left its unlaid ghost To seek a light for ever lost,
Or wail a deed for ever done.
So for reward of life-long truth He lives again, as good men can, Redoubling his allotted
With memories of a stainless youth.
Sir Henry Newbolt
Sir Henry John Newbolt, CH (6 June 1862 – 19 April 1938) was an English poet, novelist and historian. He is perhaps best remembered for his poem
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
For A Trafalgar Cenotaph
Lover of England, stand awhile and With thankful heart, and lips refrained from praise; They rest beyond the speech of human Who served with Nelson and with Nelson died
San Stefano
(A Ballad of the Bold Menelaus)It was morning at St Helen's, in the great and gallant days, And the sea beneath the sun glittered wide, When the frigate set her courses, all a-shimmer in the haze And she hauled her cable home and took th...
The Only Son
O bitter wind toward the sunset blowing, What of the dales tonight In yonder gray old hall what fires are glowing, What ring of festal lights
The Vigil
England where the sacred flame Burns before the inmost shrine, Where the lips that love thy name Consecrate their hopes and thine, Where the banners of thy