Читать книгу In Flanders Fields And Other Poems - Lieut.-Col. John McCrae - Страница 17

Table of Contents

I

SLEEP, little eyes

That brim with childish tears amid thy play,

Be comforted! No grief of night can weigh

Against the joys that throng thy coming day.

Sleep, little heart!

There is no place in Slumberland for tears:

Life soon enough will bring its chilling fears

And sorrows that will dim the after years.

Sleep, little heart!

II

Ah, little eyes

Dead blossoms of a springtime long ago,

That life’s storm crushed and left to lie below

The benediction of the falling snow!

Sleep, little heart

That ceased so long ago its frantic beat!

The years that come and go with silent feet

Have naught to tell save this—that rest is sweet.

Dear little heart.