Читать книгу The Two Twilights - Henry A. Beers - Страница 2

The muses ring my bell and run away.

I spy you, rogues, behind the evergreen:

You, wild Thalia, romper in the hay;

And you, Terpsichore, you long-legged quean.

When I was young you used to come and stay,

But, now that I grow older, 'tis well seen

What tricks ye put upon me. Well-a-day!

How many a summer evening have ye been

Sitting about my door-step, fain to sing

And tell old tales, while through the fragrant dark

Burned the large planets, throbbed the brooding sound

Of crickets and the tree-toads' ceaseless ring;

And in the meads the fire-fly lit her spark

Where from my threshold sank the vale profound.