Читать книгу The Azure Rose - Reginald Wright Kauffman - Страница 4

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Paris as I knew her

In the days ere this—

Paris, when I threw her

Many a careless kiss—

Paris of my pleasure,

Bright of eye and brow,

Town of squandered treasure—

Where’s that Paris now?

Song had shunned her traces,

Care was on her track:

All my young girls’ faces

Pale in folds of black!

Half the hearts were broken,

All the mirth was fled;

Scarce a vow was spoken,

Save above the dead....

Oh, but there’s a spirit

Sorrow cannot kill!

Even now I hear it

Swear the great “I Will!”

Paris, at your portal

Taps the ancient truth,

Laughing and immortal:

Never-conquered Youth!

R. W. K.

THE AZURE ROSE