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Да, первый рассказ из сборника, что я успела прочитать, что надо! И написано хорошо, и содержание необычное, но жизненное. Очень понравилось, хотя там...
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The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Volume 2
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We may reprove
The world for this, not only her:
Let me approach to breathe away
This dust o' the heart with holy air.
Second Angel
Stand off! She sleeps, and did not pray.
First Angel
Did none pray for her?
Second Angel
Ay, a child, —
Who never, praying, wept before:
While, in a mother undefiled,
Prayer goeth on in sleep, as true
And pauseless as the pulses do.
First Angel
Then I approach.
Second Angel
It is not WILLED.
First Angel
One word: is she redeemed?
Second Angel
No more!
The place is filled.
[Angels vanish
Evil Spirit (in a Nun's garb by the bed)
Forbear that dream – forbear that dream! too near to heaven it leaned.
Onora (in sleep)
Nay, leave me this – but only this! 't is but a dream, sweet fiend!
Evil Spirit
It is a thought.
Onora (in sleep)
A sleeping thought – most innocent of good:
It doth the Devil no harm, sweet fiend! it cannot if it would.
I say in it no holy hymn, I do no holy work,
I scarcely hear the sabbath-bell that chimeth from the kirk.
Evil Spirit
Forbear that dream – forbear that dream!
Onora (in sleep)
Nay, let me dream at least.
That far-off bell, it may be took for viol at a feast:
I only walk among the fields, beneath the autumn-sun,
With my dead father, hand in hand, as I have often done.
Evil Spirit
Forbear that dream – forbear that dream!
Onora (in sleep)
Nay, sweet fiend, let me go:
I never more can walk with him, oh, never more but so!
For they have tied my father's feet beneath the kirk-yard stone,
Oh, deep and straight! oh, very straight! they move at nights alone:
And then he calleth through my dreams, he calleth tenderly,
"Come forth, my daughter, my beloved, and walk the fields with me!"
Evil Spirit
Forbear that dream, or else disprove its pureness by a sign.
Onora (in sleep)
Speak on, thou shalt be satisfied, my word shall answer thine.
I heard a bird which used to sing when I a child was praying,
I see the poppies in the corn I used to sport away in:
What shall I do – tread down the dew and pull the blossoms blowing?
Or clap my wicked hands to fright the finches from the rowan?
Evil Spirit
Thou shalt do something harder still. Stand up where thou dost stand
Among the fields of Dreamland with thy father hand in hand,
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Последний отзыв
Да, первый рассказ из сборника, что я успела прочитать, что надо! И написано хорошо, и содержание необычное, но жизненное. Очень понравилось, хотя там...
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