Читать книгу Poems, with The Ballad of Reading Gaol - Оскар Уайльд, Wilde Oscar, F. H. Cornish - Страница 5

Tread lightly, she is near

   Under the snow,

Speak gently, she can hear

   The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair

   Tarnished with rust,

She that was young and fair

   Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,

   She hardly knew

She was a woman, so

   Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,

   Lie on her breast,

I vex my heart alone,

   She is at rest.

Peace, Peace, she cannot hear

   Lyre or sonnet,

All my life’s buried here,

   Heap earth upon it.