Читать книгу The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 14 - Robert Louis Stevenson - Страница 64

Where the bells peal far at sea

Cunning fingers fashioned me.

There on palace walls I hung

While that Consuelo sung;

But I heard, though I listened well,

Never a note, never a trill,

Never a beat of the chiming bell.

There I hung and looked, and there

In my grey face, faces fair

Shone from under shining hair.

Well I saw the poising head,

But the lips moved and nothing said;

And when lights were in the hall,

Silent moved the dancers all.

So a while I glowed, and then

Fell on dusty days and men;

Long I slumbered packed in straw,

Long I none but dealers saw;

Till before my silent eye

One that sees came passing by.

Now with an outlandish grace,

To the sparkling fire I face

In the blue room at Skerryvore;

Where I wait until the door

Open, and the Prince of Men,

Henry James, shall come again.