IV

The sky is up above the roof

So blue, so soft!

A tree there, up above the roof,

Swayeth aloft.

A bell within that sky we see,

Chimes low and faint:

A bird upon that tree we see,

Maketh complaint.

Dear God! is not the life up there,

Simple and sweet?

How peacefully are borne up there

Sounds of the street!

What hast thou done, who comest

To weep alway?

Where hast thou laid, who comest here,

Thy youth away?

The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson, With a Memoir by Arthur Symons · 第 81 / 116 题