Robert Laurence Binyon: Все стихи поэта

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O World, Be Nobler

O WORLD, be nobler, for her sake!

If she but knew thee what thou art,

What wrongs are borne, what deeds are done

In thee, beneath thy daily sun,

Know'st thou not that her tender heart

For pain and very shame would break?

O World, be nobler, for her sake!

by Robert Laurence Binyon

"In the shadow of a broken house"

In the shadow of a broken house,

Down a deserted street,

Propt walls, cold hearths, and phantom stairs,

And the silence of dead feet —

Locked wildly in one another's arms

I saw two lovers meet.

And over that hearthless house aghast

Rose from the mind's abyss

by Robert Laurence Binyon

Evening Rain

What is lovelier than rain that lingers

Falling through the western light?

The light that's red between my fingers

Bathes infinite heaven's remotest height.

Whither will the cloud its darkness carry

Whose trembling drops about me spill?

Two worlds, of shadow and splendour, marry:

I stand between them rapt and still.

by Robert Laurence Binyon

The Rain Was Ending, And Light

The rain was ending, and light

Lifting the leaden skies.

It shone upon ceiling and floor

And dazzled a child's eyes.

Pale after fever, a captive

Apart from his schoolfellows,

He stood at the high room's window

With face to the pane pressed close,

by Robert Laurence Binyon

The Arras Road

The early night falls on the plain

In cloud and desolating rain.

I see no more, but feel around

The ruined earth, the wounded ground.

There in the dark, on either side

The road, are all the brave who died.

I think not on the battles won;

by Robert Laurence Binyon

"As in the dusty lane to fern or flower"

As in the dusty lane to fern or flower,

Whose freshness in hot noon is dried and dead,

Sweet comes the dark with a full--falling shower,

And again breathes the new--washed, happy head:

So when the thronged world round my spirit hums,

And soils my purer sense, and dims my eyes,

So grateful to my heart the evening comes,

Unburdening its still rain of memories.

by Robert Laurence Binyon

Invocation To Youth

COME then, as ever, like the wind at morning!

Joyous, O Youth, in the aged world renew

Freshness to feel the eternities around it,

Rain, stars and clouds, light and the sacred dew.

The strong sun shines above thee:

That strength, that radiance bring!

If Winter come to Winter,

When shall men hope for Spring?

by Robert Laurence Binyon

Nothing Is Enough!

No, though our all be spent—

Heart's extremest love,

Spirit's whole intent,

All that nerve can feel,

All that brain invent,—

Still beyond appeal

Will Divine Desire

Yet more excellent

by Robert Laurence Binyon

To Women

Your hearts are lifted up, your hearts

That have foreknown the utter price.

Your hearts burn upward like a flame

Of splendour and of sacrifice.

For you, you too, to battle go,

Not with the marching drums and cheers

But in the watch of solitude

And through the boundless night of fears.

by Robert Laurence Binyon

The Winds Of All The World

The winds of all the world bring agonies,

Day by day, hour by hour, into our ears;

Not only desolation, blood, and tears,

But cloud on cloud of suffocating lies.

The human strives with the inhuman there,

Enduring things beyond belief, and still

Because of one unconquerable will

Confronts, clear--eyed, what it has yet to bear.

by Robert Laurence Binyon

The Zeppelin

Guns! far and near

Quick, sudden, angry,

They startle the still street,

Upturned faces appear,

Doors open on darkness,

There is a hurrying of feet,

And whirled athwart gloom

White fingers of alarm

by Robert Laurence Binyon

Ypres

On the road to Ypres, on the long road,

Marching strong,

We'll sing a song of Ypres, of her glory

And her wrong.

Proud rose her towers in the old time,

Long ago.

Trees stood on her ramparts, and the water

Lay below.

by Robert Laurence Binyon