Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


                   White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
                     So wonderfully built among the reeds
                     Of the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds,
                     As sayeth thy old historian and thy guest!

                   White water-lily, cradled and caressed
                     By ocean streams, and from the silt and weeds
                     Lifting thy golden filaments and seeds,
                     Thy sun-illumined spires, thy crown and crest!

                   White phantom city, whose untrodden streets
                     Are rivers, and whose pavements are the shifting
                     Shadows of palaces and strips of sky;

                   I wait to see thee vanish like the fleets
                     Seen in mirage, or towers of cloud uplifting
                     In air their unsubstantial masonry.


                   К списку авторов     В кают-компанию