Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини)
A Porch in Belgravia
When, after dawn, the lordly houses hide Till you fall foul of it, some piteous guest, (Some girl the damp stones gather to their breast, Her gold hair rough, her rebel garment wide, Who sleeps, with all that luck and life denied Camped round, and dreams how seaward and southwest Blue over Devon farms the smoke-rings rest, And sheep and lambs ascend the lit hillside,) Dear, of your charity, speak low, step soft, Pray for a sinner. Planet-like and still, Best hearts of all are sometimes set aloft Only to see and pass, nor yet deplore Even Wrong itself, crowned Wrong inscrutable, Which cannot but have been, for evermore.
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