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From "LYRICAL BALLADS, AND OTHER POEMS"

Из "ЛИРИЧЕСКИХ БАЛЛАД И ДРУГИХ СТИХОТВОРЕНИЙ"

THERE WAS A BOY

                There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs                And islands of Winander! — many a time,                At evening, when the earliest stars began                To move along the edges of the hills,                Rising or setting, would he stand alone,                Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake;                And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands                Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth                Uplifted, he, as through an instrument,                Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls,                That they might answer him. - And they would shout                Across the watery vale, and shout again,                Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals;                And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud                Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild                Of jocund din! And, when there came a pause                Of silence such as baffled his best skill:                Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung                Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise                Has carried far into his heart the voice                Of mountain-torrents; or the visible scene                Would enter unawares into his mind                With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,                Its woods, and that uncertain heaven received                Into the bosom of the steady lake.                     This boy was taken from his mates, and died                In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old.                Pre-eminent in beauty is the vale                Where he was born and bred: the church-yard hangs                Upon a slope above the village-school;                And, through that church-yard when my way has led                On summer-evenings, I believe, that there                A long half-hour together I have stood                Mute-looking at the grave in which he lies!

МАЛЬЧИК [36]

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