Another tattered rhymster in the ring,With but the old plea to the sneering schools,That on him too, some secret night in springCame the old frenzy of a hundred foolsTo make some thing: the old want dark and deep,The thirst of men, the hunger of the stars,Since first it tinged even the Eternal's sleep,With monstrous dreams of trees and towns and mars.When all He made for the first time He saw,Scattering stars as misers shake their pelf.Then in the last strange wrath broke His own law,And made a graven image of Himself.

By the Babe Unborn

Table of Contents

If trees were tall and grasses short,

As in some crazy tale,

If here and there a sea were blue

Beyond the breaking pale,

If a fixed fire hung in the air

To warm me one day through,

If deep green hair grew on great hills,

I know what I should do.

In dark I lie: dreaming that there

Are great eyes cold or kind,

And twisted streets and silent doors,

And living men behind.

Let storm-clouds come: better an hour,

And leave to weep and fight,

Than all the ages I have ruled

The empires of the night.

I think that if they gave me leave

Within that world to stand,

I would be good through all the day

I spent in fairyland.

They should not hear a word from me

Of selfishness or scorn,

If only I could find the door,

If only I were born.

The World’s Lover

Table of Contents

My eyes are full of lonely mirth:

Reeling with want and worn with scars,

For pride of every stone on earth,

I shake my spear at all the stars.

A live bat beats my crest above,

Lean foxes nose where I have trod,

And on my naked face the love

Which is the loneliness of God.

Outlawed: since that great day gone by--

When before prince and pope and queen

I stood and spoke a blasphemy--

'Behold the summer leaves are green.'

They cursed me: what was that to me

Who in that summer darkness furled,

With but an owl and snail to see,

Had blessed and conquered all the world?

They bound me to the scourging-stake,

They laid their whips of thorn on me;

I wept to see the green rods break,

Though blood be beautiful to see.

Beneath the gallows' foot abhorred

The crowds cry 'Crucify!' and 'Kill!'

Higher the priests sing, 'Praise the Lord,

The warlock dies'; and higher still

Shall heaven and earth hear one cry sent

Even from the hideous gibbet height,

'Praise to the Lord Omnipotent,

The vultures have a feast to-night.'

The Skeleton

Table of Contents

Chattering finch and water-fly

Are not merrier than I;

Here among the flowers I lie

Laughing everlastingly.

No: I may not tell the best;

Surely, friends, I might have guessed

Death was but the good King's jest,

It was hid so carefully.

A Chord of Colour

Table of Contents

My Lady clad herself in grey,

That caught and clung about her throat;

Then all the long grey winter day

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By the Babe Unborn

The World’s Lover

The Skeleton

A Chord of Colour

The Wild Knight and Other Poems. Гилберт Кит Честертон
Чтение книги онлайн.