Читать книгу A Satire Anthology - Wells Carolyn - Страница 16

TO thee, whose forehead swells with roses,

Whose most haunted bower

Gives life and scent to every flower,

Whose most adoréd name encloses

Things abstruse, deep, and divine;

Whose yellow tresses shine

Bright as Eoan fire:

Oh, me thy priest inspire!

For I to thee and thine immortal name,

In – in – in golden tunes,

For I to thee and thine immortal name —

In – sacred raptures flowing, flowing, swimming, swimming:

In sacred raptures swimming,

Immortal name, game, dame, tame, lame, lame, lame,

(Foh) hath, shame, proclaim, oh —

In sacred raptures flowing, will proclaim. (No!)

Oh, me thy priest inspire!

For I to thee and thine immortal name,

In flowing numbers filled with spright and flame,

(Good! good!)

In flowing numbers filled with spright and flame.