Читать книгу The Crimson Tide: A Novel - Chambers Robert William - Страница 2

I’d rather walk with Margaret,

I’d rather talk with Margaret,

And anchor in some sylvan nook

And fish Dream Lake with magic hook

Than sit indoors and write this book.

An author’s such an ass, alas!

To watch the world through window glass

When out of doors the skies are fair

And pretty girls beyond compare–

Like Margaret–are strolling there.

I’d rather walk with E. J. Bowes,

I’d rather talk with E. J. Bowes,

In woodlands where the sunlight gleams

Across the golden Lake of Dreams

Than drive a quill across these reams.

If I could have my proper wish

With these two friends I’d sit and fish

Where sheer cliffs wear their mossy hoods

And Dream Lake widens in the woods,

But Fate says “No! Produce your goods!”

Inspect my goods and choose a few

Dear Margaret, and Edward, too;

Then sink them in the Lake of Dreams

In dim, gold depths where sunshine streams

Down from the sky’s unclouded blue,

And I’ll be much obliged to you.