Читать книгу The Wild Swans at Coole - Yeats William Butler, William Butler Yeats - Страница 15

That cry's from the first cuckoo of the year

I wished before it ceased.

Nor bird nor beast

Could make me wish for anything this day,

Being old, but that the old alone might die,

And that would be against God's Providence.

Let the young wish. But what has brought you here?

Never until this moment have we met

Where my goats browse on the scarce grass or leap

From stone to stone.

I am looking for strayed sheep;

Something has troubled me and in my trouble

I let them stray. I thought of rhyme alone,

For rhyme can beat a measure out of trouble

And make the daylight sweet once more; but when

I had driven every rhyme into its place

The sheep had gone from theirs.

I know right well