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English Poetry. Henry Newbolt. Balade. Генри Ньюболт.






Henry Newbolt (Генри Ньюболт)

Balade

I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,
Which one in grief the other goes beyond,---
Narcissus, who to end the pain he bore
Died of the love that could not help him more;
Or I, that pine because I cannot see
The lady who is queen and love to me.

Nay--for Narcissus, in the forest pond
Seeing his image, made entreaty fond,
"Beloved, comfort on my longing pour":
So for a while he soothed his passion sore;
So cannot I, for all too far is she---
The lady who is queen and love to me.

But since that I have Love's true colours donned,
I in his service will not now despond,
For in extremes Love yet can all restore:
So till her beauty walks the world no more
All day remembered in my hope shall be
The lady who is queen and love to me

Henry Newbolt’s other poems:

  1. For a Trafalgar Cenotaph
  2. The Death of Admiral Blake
  3. Moonset
  4. Drake’s Drum
  5. The Quarter-Gunner’s Yarn




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