Читать книгу Poems New and Old - John Freeman - Страница 9

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To make a fairer,

A kinder, a more constant world than this;

To make time longer

And love a little stronger,

To give to blossoms

And trees and fruits more beauty than they bear,

Adding to sweetness

The aye-wanted completeness,

To say to sorrow,

"Ease now thy bosom of its snaky burden";

(And sorrow brightened,

No more stung and frightened),

To cry to death,

"Stay a little, O proud Shade, thy stony hand";

(And death removing

Left us amazed loving);—

For this and this,

O inward Spirit, arm thyself with power;

Be it thy duty

To give a body to beauty.

Thine to remake

The world in thy hid likeness, and renew

The fading vision

In spite of time's derision.

Be it thine, O spirit,

The world of sense and thought to exalt with light;

Purge away blindness,

Terror and all unkindness.

Shine, shine

From within, on the confused grey world without

That, growing clearer,

Grows spiritual and dearer.