A Boy’s Will. Robert Frost
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Название: A Boy’s Will

Автор: Robert Frost

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Учебная литература

Серия:

isbn: 9781515418757

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ the bride in the dusk alone

      Bent over the open fire,

      Her face rose-red with the glowing coal

      And the thought of the heart’s desire.

      The bridegroom looked at the weary road,

      Yet saw but her within,

      And wished her heart in a case of gold

      And pinned with a silver pin.

      The bridegroom thought it little to give

      A dole of bread, a purse,

      A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God,

      Or for the rich a curse;

      But whether or not a man was asked

      To mar the love of two

      By harboring woe in the bridal house,

      The bridegroom wished he knew.

      A Late Walk

      When I go up through the mowing field,

      The headless aftermath,

      Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,

      Half closes the garden path.

      And when I come to the garden ground,

      The whir of sober birds

      Up from the tangle of withered weeds

      Is sadder than any words.

      A tree beside the wall stands bare,

      But a leaf that lingered brown,

      Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,

      Comes softly rattling down.

      I end not far from my going forth

      By picking the faded blue

      Of the last remaining aster flower

      To carry again to you.

      Stars

      How countlessly they congregate

      O’er our tumultuous snow,

      Which flows in shapes as tall as trees

      When wintry winds do blow!—

      As if with keenness for our fate,

      Our faltering few steps on

      To white rest, and a place of rest

      Invisible at dawn,—

      And yet with neither love nor hate,

      Those stars like some snow-white

      Minerva’s snow-white marble eyes

      Without the gift of sight.

      Storm Fear

      When the wind works against us in the dark,

      And pelts with snow

      The lower chamber window on the east,

      And whispers with a sort of stifled bark,

      The beast,

      ‘Come out! Come out!—

      It costs no inward struggle not to go,

      Ah, no!

      I count our strength,

      Two and a child,

      Those of us not asleep subdued to mark

      How the cold creeps as the fire dies at length,—

      How drifts are piled,

      Dooryard and road ungraded,

      Till even the comforting barn grows far away

      And my heart owns a doubt

      Whether ‘tis in us to arise with day

      And save ourselves unaided.

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