The Complete Poems of O. Henry. O. Henry
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Название: The Complete Poems of O. Henry

Автор: O. Henry

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 9788027235438

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      Crept nearer Saying:

      “Come with me! Take

      No chances

      With the sleepers —

      Come with me!”

      And down

      The highway

      Swept the summons,

      “Come with me!”

      Gray garments

      Changed

      To gold,

      And only

      Hatred

      And Fear

      Were left uncalled

      From their sleep.

      Fancies

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      Birds go seeking

      Mates,

      All on a day made gay.

      “Trees are blooming,

      Branches waiting, —

      Will you come?”

      Shy the answer —

      Swift surrender —

      Roundelays are heard.

      Time is flying,

      Summer coming,

      When the families

      Say farewell.

      In a pasture green

      Fair flowers bloom;

      Gay their faces —

      Bright their dresses.

      Swiftly seeking,

      Whirling, wheeling,

      Comes a flock

      At noon.

      “Here are daisies,

      Sweetest grasses,

      Buttercups and clover,

      Let us linger, sip and treasure.”

      Summer passes,

      Grasses perish,

      But in sweetness

      Is Springtime cherished.

      Daylight passes,

      Night approaches,

      Lights begin to gleam.

      In the houses

      One can fancy

      Nestlings tucked to rest.

      Good night, sea,

      Good night world,

      All my soul goes out

      To thee.

      Happy meeting,

      Friendly greeting

      Upon the milky way,

      Trusting

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      Upon the ocean wide

      Two little ships set sail.

      Over an ocean blue

      Two little birds sailed true.

      Kneeling upon a nursery floor

      Two little children fair.

      Under a star-lit sky

      A youth and a maiden, shy.

      With sightless eyes and folded hands,

      Old age murmurs,”

      God knows best.”

      Faith — trust — love — courage! That is all — God does the rest.

      Thoughts

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      Thinking, thinking, thinking,

      As the needle travels to and fro

      Through sheerest linen — finest lace-

      Weaving patterns — all unseen,

      Upon its face.

      Pictures vivid, pictures dim,

      Pictures gay and with sadness grim,

      Tiny feet — clinging hands —

      All are in the fabric’s sheen.

      Unseen tracery takes its place,

      To weave again its mystic theme.

      Thinking

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      The only value of thinking

      Is thinking of things worth while,

      Of thinking of what you want to be,

      And thinking of things to do

      For the folks — who know not the value

      Of thinking of things worth while.

      All that you are, or will be,

      Is vested in thinking,

      And СКАЧАТЬ