Читать книгу Birds of Passage - Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло - Страница 13

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In broad daylight, and at noon,

Yesterday I saw the moon

Sailing high, but faint and white,

As a school-boy's paper kite.

In broad daylight, yesterday,

I read a Poet's mystic lay;

And it seemed to me at most

As a phantom, or a ghost.

But at length the feverish day

Like a passion died away,

And the night, serene and still,

Fell on village, vale, and hill.

Then the moon, in all her pride,

Like a spirit glorified,

Filled and overflowed the night

With revelations of her light.

And the Poet's song again

Passed like music through my brain.

Night interpreted to me

All its grace and mystery.