Rome Unvisited
Автор книги Oscar Wilde
Время прослушивания 00:51,
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THE corn has turned from grey to red,
Since first my spirit wandered forth.
From the drear cities of the north,
And to Italia's mountains fled.
And here I set my face towards home,
For all my pilgrimage is done,
Although, methinks, yon blood-red sun.
Marshals the way to Holy Rome.
O Blessed Lady, who dost hold.
Upon the seven hills thy reign!
O Mother without blot or stain,
Crowned with bright crowns of triple gold!
O Roma, Roma, at thy feet.
I lay this barren gift of song!
For, ah!
the way is steep and long.
That leads unto thy sacred street.
