Читать книгу Poems. Volume 2 - George Meredith - Страница 14

Judge mildly the tasked world; and disincline

To brand it, for it bears a heavy pack.

You have perchance observed the inebriate’s track

At night when he has quitted the inn-sign:

He plays diversions on the homeward line,

Still that way bent albeit his legs are slack:

A hedge may take him, but he turns not back,

Nor turns this burdened world, of curving spine.

‘Spiral,’ the memorable Lady terms

Our mind’s ascent: our world’s advance presents

That figure on a flat; the way of worms.

Cherish the promise of its good intents,

And warn it, not one instinct to efface

Ere Reason ripens for the vacant place.