Читать книгу Poems of Arthur Hugh Clough - Arthur Hugh Clough - Страница 14

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If, when in cheerless wanderings, dull and cold,

A sense of human kindliness hath found us,

We seem to have around us

An atmosphere all gold,

’Midst darkest shades a halo rich of shine,

An element, that while the bleak wind bloweth,

On the rich heart bestoweth

Imbreathèd draughts of wine;

Heaven guide, the cup be not, as chance may be,

To some vain mate given up as soon as tasted!

No, nor on thee be wasted,

Thou trifler, Poesy!

Heaven grant the manlier heart, that timely, ere

Youth fly, with life’s real tempest would be coping;

The fruit of dreamy hoping

Is, waking, blank despair.

1841