Читать книгу A Selection from the Poems of William Morris - William Morris - Страница 26

O happy seafarers are ye, And surely all your ills are past, And toil upon the land and sea, Since ye are brought to us at last. To you the fashion of the world, Wide lands laid waste, fair cities burned, And plagues, and kings from kingdoms hurled, Are nought, since hither ye have turned. For as upon this beach we stand, And o'er our heads the sea-fowl flit, Our eyes behold a glorious land, And soon shall ye be kings of it.