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قراءة كتاب Out of the North
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 4
class="i1">The Judge with Book of Judgment stands?
Where we must pass, with faces pale,
Awaiting judgment at His hands?
O sombre skies that frown all day
Upon us hopeless, hapless men,
When Death shall beckon us away
What happens then? What happens then?
Upon us hopeless, hapless men,
When Death shall beckon us away
What happens then? What happens then?
Vain Dreams
The trees, my sisters, robed in white,
Now dream of spring;
Of sun-lit day and fragrant night,
Of birds that sing.
Now dream of spring;
Of sun-lit day and fragrant night,
Of birds that sing.
They little think that I can tell
About their pain;
They do not know I dream as well
A dream most vain.
About their pain;
They do not know I dream as well
A dream most vain.
December
Beneath a shroud of unpolluted white,
The frozen hills lie silent and asleep;
And moveless spruce and ghostly birches keep
Their silent vigils through the endless night.
The frozen creeks, long voiceless, partly veiled
'Neath drifting snow, dream fondly of the trees;
Within the woods no bird's song and no breeze
Make wondrous music when the skies have paled.
The kingly sun ne'er sends his laughing rays
To wake the hills and warm the trees and streams;
His face is hid, and hid are now the beams
That woke the world on long-dead summer days.
The patient moon with all her silent train
Of maiden stars patrols the roads on high,
And watches well all things that sleeping lie
Till Spring's first song shall waken them again.
The white world sleeps, and all is very still,
Except when rises on the frosted air
From out its chilly and forbidding lair
A lone wolf's howl, long-drawn and terrible.
The frozen hills lie silent and asleep;
And moveless spruce and ghostly birches keep
Their silent vigils through the endless night.
The frozen creeks, long voiceless, partly veiled
'Neath drifting snow, dream fondly of the trees;
Within the woods no bird's song and no breeze
Make wondrous music when the skies have paled.
The kingly sun ne'er sends his laughing rays
To wake the hills and warm the trees and streams;
His face is hid, and hid are now the beams
That woke the world on long-dead summer days.
The patient moon with all her silent train
Of maiden stars patrols the roads on high,
And watches well all things that sleeping lie
Till Spring's first song shall waken them again.
The white world sleeps, and all is very still,
Except when rises on the frosted air
From out its chilly and forbidding lair
A lone wolf's howl, long-drawn and terrible.
The Unassuageable
I sometimes hear among the snow-clad trees
The lone wind chanting solemn symphonies.
The lone wind chanting solemn symphonies.
I sometimes smell, while yet the woods are bare,
The breath of unborn blossoms in the air.
The breath of unborn blossoms in the air.
I am at times aware of gentle sighs
There where the creek, ice-fettered, dreaming lies.
There where the creek, ice-fettered, dreaming lies.
I sometimes witness when the air is still
Unearthly splendors on the white-robed hill.
Unearthly splendors on the white-robed hill.
I sometimes read in flashing stars at night
Mysterious promises of future light.
Mysterious promises of future light.
But what can make a spirit's anguish less,
Or ease a heart's eternal loneliness?
Or ease a heart's eternal loneliness?