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В борьбе за власть есть первые; есть вторые; и есть 6ыдло (из канала BS "Без Слёз").
- Вторые всегда стремятся стать первыми. Но ресурсы власти – у п...
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Clad in white for her long rest;
Crowned with gold, and jewel-laden,
With a lily on her breast
Lily is the mark that showeth
Where that pure and sweet heart gloweth;
Here must come, to shed her life,
Point of sacrificial knife.
Here the knife is, cold and gleaming,
Here the colder butcher band.
Was the true love nought but dreaming,
Feeble heart, and coward hand?
XII
Strength unto the weak is given,
When their earthly bonds are riven;
Ere the spirit is called away,
Heaven begins its tranquil sway.
Life hath been unstained, and therefore
Pleasant to look back upon;
But there is not much to care for,
When the light of love is gone.
Still, though love were twice as fleeting,
Longeth she for one last greeting;
If her eyes might only dwell
Once on his, to say farewell
XIII
"Glorious Hapi," spake Piromis,
Lifting high his weapon'd hand;
"Earth thy footstool, heaven thy dome is,
We the pebbles on thy strand.
"Thou hast leaped the cubits twenty,
Dowering us with peace and plenty;
Mutha shows thee her retreat,
And the desert licks thy feet,
"We have passed through our purgation,
Once again we are thy kin;
God, accept our expiation,
Maiden pure of mortal sin."
XIV
"Ha!" the king cried, smiling blandly;
"Ha!" the trumpets answered grandly.
Proudly priest whirled, knife on high,
While the maiden bowed—to die.
Sudden, through the ranks beside her,
Scattering men, like sparks of flint,
Burst a snow-white horse and rider,
Rapid as the lightning's glint.
One blow hurls Arch-priest to quiver
Headless, in his beloved river,
In the twinkling of an eye,
All the rest are dead, or fly.
XV
Iram, from Pyropus sweeping,
As a mower swathes the rye,
Caught his love, in terror sleeping,
And her light form swings on high.
"Soul of Khons!" Sesostris shouted,
Striding down the planks blood-grouted—
Into his beard fell something light,
And he spat, and swooned with fright.
What hath made this great king stagger,
Reel, and shriek—"unclean, unclean!"
Thunderbolt, or flash of dagger?
Nay, 'twas but a garden bean.
XVI
Brave Pyropus, blood-bespattered,
Snorts at men and corpses scattered,
Throws his noble chest more wide,
Leaps into the leaping tide.
Vainly hiss a thousand arrows,
Launched at random through the foam;
Every stroke the distance narrows
Twixt him and his desert home.
Sorely tried, and passion-shaken,
Long amid her foes forsaken,
Now, in tumult of surprise,
Lita knows not where she lies.
Till a bright wave breaks upon her,
Crowned with gold, and jewel-laden,
With a lily on her breast
Lily is the mark that showeth
Where that pure and sweet heart gloweth;
Here must come, to shed her life,
Point of sacrificial knife.
Here the knife is, cold and gleaming,
Here the colder butcher band.
Was the true love nought but dreaming,
Feeble heart, and coward hand?
XII
Strength unto the weak is given,
When their earthly bonds are riven;
Ere the spirit is called away,
Heaven begins its tranquil sway.
Life hath been unstained, and therefore
Pleasant to look back upon;
But there is not much to care for,
When the light of love is gone.
Still, though love were twice as fleeting,
Longeth she for one last greeting;
If her eyes might only dwell
Once on his, to say farewell
XIII
"Glorious Hapi," spake Piromis,
Lifting high his weapon'd hand;
"Earth thy footstool, heaven thy dome is,
We the pebbles on thy strand.
"Thou hast leaped the cubits twenty,
Dowering us with peace and plenty;
Mutha shows thee her retreat,
And the desert licks thy feet,
"We have passed through our purgation,
Once again we are thy kin;
God, accept our expiation,
Maiden pure of mortal sin."
XIV
"Ha!" the king cried, smiling blandly;
"Ha!" the trumpets answered grandly.
Proudly priest whirled, knife on high,
While the maiden bowed—to die.
Sudden, through the ranks beside her,
Scattering men, like sparks of flint,
Burst a snow-white horse and rider,
Rapid as the lightning's glint.
One blow hurls Arch-priest to quiver
Headless, in his beloved river,
In the twinkling of an eye,
All the rest are dead, or fly.
XV
Iram, from Pyropus sweeping,
As a mower swathes the rye,
Caught his love, in terror sleeping,
And her light form swings on high.
"Soul of Khons!" Sesostris shouted,
Striding down the planks blood-grouted—
Into his beard fell something light,
And he spat, and swooned with fright.
What hath made this great king stagger,
Reel, and shriek—"unclean, unclean!"
Thunderbolt, or flash of dagger?
Nay, 'twas but a garden bean.
XVI
Brave Pyropus, blood-bespattered,
Snorts at men and corpses scattered,
Throws his noble chest more wide,
Leaps into the leaping tide.
Vainly hiss a thousand arrows,
Launched at random through the foam;
Every stroke the distance narrows
Twixt him and his desert home.
Sorely tried, and passion-shaken,
Long amid her foes forsaken,
Now, in tumult of surprise,
Lita knows not where she lies.
Till a bright wave breaks upon her,
Другие электронные книги автора Richard Doddridge Blackmore
Последний отзыв
В борьбе за власть есть первые; есть вторые; и есть 6ыдло (из канала BS "Без Слёз").
- Вторые всегда стремятся стать первыми. Но ресурсы власти – у п...
Далее