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English Poetry. Alfred Tennyson. The War. Альфред Теннисон.






Alfred Tennyson (Альфред Теннисон)

The War

There is a sound of thunder afar,
Storm in the south that darkens the day,
Storm of battle and thunder of war,
Well, if it do not roll our way.
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Be not deaf to the sound that warns!
Be not gull'd by a despot's plea!
Are figs of thistles or grapes of thorns?
How should a despot set men free?
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Let your Reforms for a moment go,
Look to your butts and make good aims.
Better a rotten borough or so,
Than a rotten fleet or a city of flames!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Form, be ready to do or die!
Form in freedom's name and the Queen's!
True, that we have a faithful ally,
But only the devil knows what he means!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form! 

Alfred Tennyson’s other poems:

  1. Fatima
  2. The Grandmother
  3. Requiescat
  4. Hark! The Dogs Howl!
  5. The Oak

Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Jones Very (Джонс Вери) The War («I saw a war, yet none the trumpet blew»)




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