Читать книгу Daughters of Fire - Barbara Erskine - Страница 5

The lamps now glitter down the street;

Faintly sound the falling feet;

And the blue even slowly falls

About the garden trees and walls.

Now in the falling of the gloom

The red fire paints the empty room:

And warmly on the roof it looks,

And flickers on the backs of books.

Armies march by tower and spire

Of cities blazing, in the fire;

Till as I gaze with staring eyes,

The armies fade, the lustre dies.

Then once again the glow returns;

Again the phantom city burns;

And down the red-hot valley, lo!

The phantom armies marching go!

Blinking embers, tell me true,

Where are those armies marching to,

And what the burning city is

That crumbles in your furnaces!

‘Armies in the Fire’

A Child’s Garden of Verses

Robert Louis Stevenson

‘The evil that men do lives after them,

The good is oft interred with their bones …’

Julius Caesar

William Shakespeare