Читать книгу Songs of the Army of the Night - Adams Francis William Lauderdale - Страница 1

“My sweet, my child, through all this night

   Of dark and wind and rain,

Where thunder crashes, and the light

   Sears the bewildered brain,

“It is your face, your lips, your eyes

   I see rise up; I hear

Your voice that sobs and calls and cries,

   Or shrills and mocks at fear.

“O this that’s mine is yours as well,

   For side by side our feet

Trod through these bitter brakes of hell.

   Take it, my child, my sweet!”