This is a sacred city built of marvellous earth. Life was lived nobly here to give such beauty birth. Beauty was in this brain and in this eager hand: Death is so blind and dumb Death does not understand. Death drifts the brain with dust and soils the young limbs' glory, Death makes justice a dream, and strength a traveller's story. Death drives the lovely soul to wander under the sky. Death opens unknown doors. It is most grand to die.
1 min read
СлушатьBy a Bier-Side
0
0
27
Give Award
John Masefield
John Edward Masefield OM (/ˈmeɪsˌfiːld, ˈmeɪz-/; 1 June 1878 – 12 May 1967) was an English poet and writer, and Poet Laureate from 1930 until 19…
Other author posts
Sonnet II
Frgt all ths, th barrn fl in pwr, Th maman in mman, th jalus O, Th bittr wrl, biting its bittr hur, Th rul nw, th happy lng ag…
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
On l Cl Crnn's winy tps Grws wintrily Blwn Hilt Cps, Win-bittn bh with bagr barrws, Whr brks at wasp-grubs with thir marrws, An fxs li n shrt-grass turf,…
Reynard the Fox - Part 1
Th mt was at &qut;Th Ck an Py By Charls an Martha Enrby,&qut; Th gry, thr-hunr-yar-l inn Lng sin th haunt f Bnjamin Th highwayman, wh r th bay Th tavrn frnts th ahing way, Th mail hang hrs...…
On Eastnor Knoll
Silnt ar th ws, an th im grn bughs ar Hush in th twilight: ynr, in th path thrugh Th appl rhar, is a tir plugh-by Calling th ws hm A bright whit star blinks, th pal mn runs, but Still th r, luri w...…
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments