Читать книгу The Dragon of Wantley: His Tale - Wister Owen - Страница 2

When Betsinda held the Rose

And the Ring decked Giglio’s finger

Thackeray! ’twas sport to linger

With thy wise, gay-hearted prose.

Books were merry, goodness knows!

When Betsinda held the Rose.

Who but foggy drudglings doze

While Rob Gilpin toasts thy witches,

While the Ghost waylays thy breeches,

Ingoldsby? Such tales as those

Exorcised our peevish woes

When Betsinda held the Rose.

Realism, thou specious pose!

Haply it is good we met thee;

But, passed by, we’ll scarce regret thee;

For we love the light that glows

Where Queen Fancy’s pageant goes,

And Betsinda holds the Rose.

Shall we dare it? Then let’s close

Doors to-night on things statistic,

Seek the hearth in circle mystic,

Till the conjured fire-light shows

Where Youth’s bubbling Fountain flows,

And Betsinda holds the Rose.