Читать книгу Poems. Volume 2 - George Meredith - Страница 16

That Garden of sedate Philosophy

Once flourished, fenced from passion and mishap,

A shining spot upon a shaggy map;

Where mind and body, in fair junction free,

Luted their joyful concord; like the tree

From root to flowering twigs a flowing sap.

Clear Wisdom found in tended Nature’s lap

Of gentlemen the happy nursery.

That Garden would on light supremest verge,

Were the long drawing of an equal breath

Healthful for Wisdom’s head, her heart, her aims.

Our world which for its Babels wants a scourge,

And for its wilds a husbandman, acclaims

The crucifix that came of Nazareth.