Читать книгу Peter and Alexis - Dmitry Sergeyevich Merezhkovsky - Страница 12

’Tis time to cast thy bow away,

Cupid, we all are in thy sway.

mingled with Ivan’s melancholy, drawling song, as, his face turned to the east and the dawn, he sang of the eternal setting, the end of all days:

Hollowed oak trunks, ye will prove

Fit house for us, who on earth did move,

Night approacheth, endeth Day,

And cruel Death his scythe doth lay

To the root of all that live!