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Слушать(AI)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?
In the great window as the day was dwindlingI saw an old man stand;
His head was proudly held and his eyes kindling,
But the list shook in his hand."O wind of twilight, was there no word uttered,
No sound of joy or wail?'A great fight and a good death,' he muttered;'Trust him, he would not fail.'"What of the chamber dark where she was
For whom all life is done?"Within her heart she rocks a dead child, crying'My son, my little son.'"
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
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