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Слушать(AI)Sonnet Oh! Death Will Find Me Long Before I Tire
Oh!
Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me
Into the shade and loneliness and mire Of the last land! There, waiting patiently,
One day,
I think,
I’ll feel a cool wind blowing,
See a slow light across the Stygian tide,
And hear the Dead about me stir, unknowing,
And tremble. And I shall know that you have died,
And watch you, a broad-browed and smiling dream,
Pass, light as ever, through the lightless host,
Quietly ponder, start, and sway, and gleam— Most individual and bewildering ghost!—And turn, and toss your brown delightful
Amusedly, among the ancient Dead.
Rupert Brooke
Rupert Chawner Brooke (3 August 1887 – 23 April 1915) was an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World Wa
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I strayed about the deck, an hour, Under a cloudy moonless sky; and In at the windows, watched my friends at table, Or playing cards, or standing in the doorway,
The War Sonnets I Peace
Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,
The Old Vicarage Grantchester
Just now the lilac is in bloom, All before my little room; And in my flower-beds, I think,
Sonnet I Said I Splendidly Loved You Its Not True
I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true Such long swift tides stir not a land-locked sea On gods or fools the high risk falls — on you —The clean clear bitter-sweet that's not for me Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist
