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Robert Southey
(Ðîáåðò Ñàóòè, 1774 - 1843)


English Poet; Poet Laureate from 1813-1843


To a Goose
 

Ê ÃÓÑÞ

You are old, father William
  ÁÀËËÀÄÀ Î ÑÒÀÐÎÌ ÂÈËÜßÌÅ

To a Goose
Ê ÃÓÑÞ

If thou didst feed on western plains of yore;
Or waddle wide with flat and flabby feet
Over some Cambrian mountain’s plashy moor;
Or find in farmer’s yard a safe retreat
From gipsy thieves, and foxes sly and fleet;
If thy grey quills, by lawyer guided, trace
Deeds big with ruin to some wretched race,
Or love-sick poet’s sonnet, sad and sweet,
Wailing the rigour of his lady fair;
Or if, the drudge of housemaid’s daily toil,
Cobwebs and dust thy pinions white besoil,
Departed Goose! I neither know nor care.
But this I know, that thou wert very fine,
Season’d with sage and onions, and port wine.


   

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