1 мин
Слушать(AI)The Piano-Organ
My student-lamp is lighted, The books and papers are spread;
A sound comes floating upwards, Chasing the thoughts from my head.
I open the garret window, Let the music in and the moon;
See the woman grin for coppers, While the man grinds out the tune.
Grind me a dirge or a requiem, Or a funeral-march sad and slow,
But not,
O not, that waltz tune I heard so long ago.
I stand upright by the window, The moonlight streams in wan:—O God! with its changeless rise and fall The tune twirls on and on.
Amy Levy
Amy Judith Levy (10 November 1861 – 10 September 1889) was a British essayist, poet, and novelist best remembered for her literary gifts; her ex
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
To Death
(From Lenau )If within my heart there's mould, If the flame of And the flame of Love grow cold,
Epitaph On a Commonplace Person Who Died in Bed
This is the end of him, here he lies: The dust in his throat, the worm in his eyes, The mould in his mouth, the turf on his breast; This is the end of him, this is best
To a Dead Poet
I knew not if to laugh or weep; They sat and talked of you—'Twas here he sat; 'twas this he said 'Twas that he used to do Here is the book wherein he read, The room wherein he dwelt; And he (they said) was su...
XantippeA Fragment
What, have I waked again I never To see the rosy dawn, or ev'n this grey, Dull, solemn stillness, ere the dawn has come
