Читать книгу Poems. Volume 2 - George Meredith - Страница 18

Her son, albeit the Muse’s livery

And measured courtly paces rouse his taunts,

Naked and hairy in his savage haunts,

To Nature only will he bend the knee;

Spouting the founts of her distillery

Like rough rock-sources; and his woes and wants

Being Nature’s, civil limitation daunts

His utterance never; the nymphs blush, not he.

Him, when he blows of Earth, and Man, and Fate,

The Muse will hearken to with graver ear

Than many of her train can waken: him

Would fain have taught what fruitful things and dear

Must sink beneath the tidewaves, of their weight,

If in no vessel built for sea they swim.