Читать книгу Time's Laughingstocks, and Other Verses - Thomas Hardy, Eleanor Bron, Томас Харди (Гарди) - Страница 11

We shall see her no more

   On the balcony,

Smiling, while hurt, at the roar

   As of surging sea

From the stormy sturdy band

   Who have doomed her lord’s cause,

Though she waves her little hand

   As it were applause.

Here will be candidates yet,

   And candidates’ wives,

Fervid with zeal to set

   Their ideals on our lives:

Here will come market-men

   On the market-days,

Here will clash now and then

   More such party assays.

And the balcony will fill

   When such times are renewed,

And the throng in the street will thrill

   With to-day’s mettled mood;

But she will no more stand

   In the sunshine there,

With that wave of her white-gloved hand,

   And that chestnut hair