2 мин
Слушать(AI)The World Has Grown So Grey
HE world has grown so grey, love,
The weary world so wide;
And autumn seems to stay, love —'T was autumn when you died.
And everything is strange and new,
For all my world has died with you —It lacks the light you gave.
And sad-eyed dusk awaits alway,
And the nights wedge in the narrow
Like the walls of an open grave!
It was so cruel to go, love,
To leave me at your grave;
For Death can never know, love,
How hard 't is to be brave.
Sometimes I smile, my tears between,
For I see the still-born
That to your breast you've ta'en.
But memory wakes with a sudden start,
And the naked truth knells at my heart —And the world grows grey again!
Arthur Henry Adams
Arthur Henry Adams (6 June 1872 – 4 March 1936) was a journalist and author. He started his career in New Zealand, though he spent most of it in
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
Lament
CE, your little child is dead: Peace, I cannot weep with you; I have no more tears to shed;
From Wellington Terrace
TE stars above, red stars beneath, And o'er the bay the brooding hills: No murmur, save a quiet That faintly through the darkness thrills,
To My Love
NT me, you said, a poem; give to meA breathing thought that I may keep to kiss While that low laugh that aye a mandate Nestled upon your lips Call
Written In Australia
HE DE sun stares without a cloud: Whipped by his glances truculent The earth lies quivering and cowed My heart is hot with discontent: I hate this haggard continent But over the loping leagues of sea A lone land calls to her childre...
