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Слушать(AI)Esther A Sonnet Sequence XIII
A second warning, nor unheeded.
Yet The thought appealed to me as no strange thing,
Pure though I was, that love impure had set Its seal on that fair woman in her Spring.
Her broken beauty did not mar her grace In form or spirit.
Nay, it rather moved.
It seemed a natural thing for that gay face It should have known and suffered and been loved.
It kindled in me, too, to view it thus,
A mood of daring which was more than mine,
And made my shamefaced heart leap valorous,
And fired its courage to a zeal divine.
All this, in one short instant, as I gazed Into her eyes, admiring, yet amazed.
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt (17 August 1840[1] – 10 September 1922[2]), sometimes spelled Wilfred, was an English poet and writer. He and his wife, Lad
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A little honey Ay, a little sweet, A little pleasure when the years were young, A joyous measure trod by dancing feet,
