Читать книгу The Maid of Orleans - Фридрих Шиллер, Friedrich von Schiller - Страница 13

        My Agnes, be not sorrowful!

   Beyond the Loire we still shall find a France;

   We are departing to a happier land,

   Where laughs a milder, an unclouded sky,

   And gales more genial blow; we there shall meet

   More gentle manners; song abideth there,

   And love and life in richer beauty bloom.

   Oh, must I contemplate this day of woe!

   The king must roam in banishment! the son

   Depart, an exile from his father's house,

   And turn his back upon his childhood's home!

   Oh, pleasant, happy land that we forsake,

   Ne'er shall we tread thee joyously again.