Читать книгу The Wild Knight and Other Poems - Гилберт Честертон, Gilbert Keith Chesterton, Лорд Дансени - Страница 15

The World is ours till sunset,

  Holly and fire and snow;

And the name of our dead brother

  Who loved us long ago.

The grown folk mighty and cunning,

  They write his name in gold;

But we can tell a little

  Of the million tales he told.

He taught them laws and watchwords,

  To preach and struggle and pray;

But he taught us deep in the hayfield

  The games that the angels play.

Had he stayed here for ever,

  Their world would be wise as ours —

And the king be cutting capers,

  And the priest be picking flowers.

But the dark day came: they gathered:

  On their faces we could see

They had taken and slain our brother,

  And hanged him on a tree.