Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages онлайн

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But now, I often wish the night

Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember,

The roses, red and white,

The violets, and the lily-cups!—

Those flowers made of light!

The lilacs where the robin built,

And where my brother set

The laburnum on his birth-day,—

The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,

Where I was used to swing,

And thought the air must rush as fresh

To swallows on the wing;

My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,

The fir trees dark and high;

I used to think their slender tops

Were close against the sky:

It was a childish ignorance,

But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm farther off from Heaven

Than when I was a boy.

Thomas Hood

31

In the third-class seat sat the journeying boy,

And the roof-lamp's oily flame

Played down on his listless form and face,

Bewrapt past knowing to what he was going,

Or whence he came.

In the band of his hat the journeying boy