Читать книгу Poems, 1908-1919 - Drinkwater John - Страница 12

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Beauty has come to make no longer stay

Than the bright buds of May

In May-time do.

Beauty is with us for one hour, one hour,

Life is so brief a flower;

Thoughts are so few.

Thoughts are so few with mastery to give

Shape to these fugitive

Dear brevities,

That even in its hour beauty is blind,

Because the shallow mind

Not sees, not sees.

And in the mind of man only can be

Alert prosperity

For beauty brief.

So, what can be but little comes to less

Upon the wilderness

Of unbelief.

And beauty that has but an hour to spend

With you for friend,

Goes outcast by.

But know, but know—for all she is outcast—

It is not she at last,

But you that die.