The Complete Poems of O. Henry. O. Henry. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: O. Henry
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 9788027235438
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A sad, sweet minor threnody

       That threads the aisles of the dim hot grove

       Like a tale of a wrong or a vanished love;

       And the fancy comes that the wee dun bird

       Perchance was a maid, and her heart was stirred

       By some lover’s rhyme

       In a golden time,

       And broke when the world turned false and cold;

       And her dreams grew dark and her faith grew cold

       In some fairy far-off clime.

       And her soul crept into the Pewee’s breast;

       And forever she cries with a strange unrest

       For something lost, in the afternoon;

       For something missed from the lavish June;

       For the heart that died in the long ago;

       For the livelong pain that pierceth so:

       Thus the Pewee cries,

       While the evening lies

       Steeped in the languorous still sunshine,

       Rapt, to the leaf and the bough and the vine

       Of some hopeless paradise.

      Two Portraits

       Table of Contents

      Wild hair flying, in a matted maze,

       Hand firm as iron, eyes all ablaze;

       Bystanders timidly, breathlessly gaze,

       As o’er the keno board boldly he plays.

       — That’s Texas Bill.

       Wild hair flying, in a matted maze,

       Hand firm as iron, eyes all ablaze;

       Bystanders timidly, breathlessly gaze,

       As o’er the keyboard boldly he plays.

       — That’s Paderewski.

      Vanity

       Table of Contents

      A Poet sang so wondrous sweet

       That toiling thousands paused and listened long;

       So lofty, strong and noble were his themes,

       It seemed that strength supernal swayed his song.

       He, god-like, chided poor, weak, weeping man,

       And bade him dry his foolish, shameful tears;

       Taught that each soul on its proud self should lean,

       And from that rampart scorn all earth-born fears.

       The Poet grovelled on a fresh heaped mound,

       Raised o’er the clay of one he’d fondly loved;

       And cursed the world, and drenched the sod with tears

       And all the flimsy mockery of his precepts proved.

      Sleeping

       Table of Contents

      Gangs

      In suits of gray

      Worked upon the highway

      In a Southern State. Stones

      Were their companions,

      Coarse food

      Their nourishment.

      Cruelty

      Met often with Greed

      And Fear

      Lived with Hatred,

      When Love

      Sought entrance

      On a night

      In June,

      Trying

      All the entrances

      Unavailingly,

      And tiring at last.

      Kindness came

      And whispering

      In Love’s ear Said:

      “Down the road

      You will find open several houses.

      Better go! I will watch here.”

      Love

      Gave thanks,

      And with bounding steps

      Went gayly to the Highway.

      The sun

      Was hot

      And the stones were sharp,

      But the time for rest was near,

      And a little ripple

      Was running along the highway, —

      A tiny little wave

      Of Joy.

      Love

      Seeing this,

      Danced with glee

      And began to sing:

      “Come with me

      Where the flowers bloom

      And birds make music All the noon.

      Sunshine Dances,

      Girls give glances

      To the moon.

      Friends Take chances,

      Gay their fancies, Come with me.”

      Startled

      Glances went down the line,

      And Love swept on

      To the end, Seeking

      Entrance in each heart

      And sending thrills

      With delight,

      Until

      To each one

      Passed the word

      “Love is here!”

      Backs

      Grew straighter,

      Faces brighter,

      Down the line.

      God

      Crept nearer Saying:

      “Come with me! Take

      No chances

      With the sleepers —

      Come with me!”

      And down

      The highway

      Swept the summons,

      “Come with me!”

      Gray garments

      Changed

      To gold,

      And only

      Hatred

      And Fear

      Were left uncalled

      From their sleep.

      Fancies