Читать книгу My Commonplace Book онлайн

50 страница из 124

Long ago and long ago,

And long ago still,

There dwelt three merry maidens

Upon a distant hill.

One was tall Meggan,

And one was dainty May,

But one was fair Margaret,

More fair than I can say,

Long ago and long ago.

And yet, dear heart! remembering thee,

Am I not richer than of old?

Safe in thy immortality,

What change can reach the wealth I hold?

What chance can mar the pearl and gold

Thy love hath left in trust for me?

And while in life’s long afternoon,

Where cool and long the shadows grow,

I walk to meet the night that soon

Shall shape and shadow overflow,

I cannot feel that thou art far,

Since near at need the angels are;

And when the sunset gates unbar,

Shall I not see thee waiting stand,

And, white against the evening star,

The welcome of thy beckoning hand?

John Greenleaf Whittier (Snow-Bound).

I have a dream—that some day I shall go

At break of dawn adown a rainy street,

A grey old street, and I shall come in the end

To the little house I have known, and stand; and you,

Mother of mine, who watch and wait for me.