Баллада Редингской тюрьмы

That night the empty corridorsWere full of forms of Fear,And up and down the iron town

Stole feet we could not hear,And through the bars that hide the starsWhite faces seemed to peer.He lay as one who lies and dreams

In a pleasant meadow-land,The watcher watched him as he slept,And could not understand

How one could sleep so sweet a sleepWith a hangman close at hand?But there is no sleep when men must weepWho never yet have wept:

So we — the fool, the fraud, the knave—That endless vigil kept,And through each brain on hands of painAnother's terror crept.

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