English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Sonnets of Sorrow. 12. If, till we met, no Maker had existed. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Sonnets of Sorrow. 12. If, till we met, no Maker had existed If, till we met, no Maker had existed, If life was finite and man but a clod, This flaming love of ours has so persisted Its very glory would have made […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Sonnets of Sorrow. 6. My love, my love, how often in old days. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Sonnets of Sorrow. 6. My love, my love, how often in old days My love, my love, how often in old days I cried, “Oh, I would die for you, dear heart!” But He who planned the parting of our ways Appointed unto […]
English Poetry. Anne Brontë. Despondency. Энн Бронте.
Anne Brontë (Энн Бронте) Despondency I have gone backward in the work, The labour has not sped, Drowsy and dark my spirit lies, Heavy and dull as lead. How can I rouse my sinking soul From such a lethargy? How can I break these iron chains, And set […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Songs from the Turret. 7. As the king bird feeds on the heart of the bee. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Songs from the Turret. 7. As the king bird feeds on the heart of the bee As the king bird feeds on the heart of the bee, So would I feed on the sweets of thee. As the south wind kisses the […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Songs from the Turret. 10. My ladye’s eyes are wishing wells. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Songs from the Turret. 10. My ladye’s eyes are wishing wells My ladye’s eyes are wishing wells, Wherein I gaze with silent yearning; Deep in their depths my future dwells. My ladye’s eyes are wishing wells, But not one sign my fate foretells, […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Songs from the Turret. 2. Some day, some beauteous day. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Songs from the Turret. 2. Some day, some beauteous day Some day, some beauteous day, Joy will come back again. Sorrow must fly away. Hope, on her harp will play The old inspiring strain Some day, some beauteous day. Through the […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. All in a Coach and Four. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) All in a Coach and Four The quality folk went riding by All in a coach and four, And pretty Annette, in a calico gown, (Bringing her marketing things from town), Stopped short with her Sunday store, And wondered if ever it should […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Achievement. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Achievement Trust in thine own untried capacity As thou wouldst trust in God Himself. Thy soul Is but an emanation from the whole. Thou dost not dream what forces lie in thee, Vast and unfathomed as the grandest sea. Thy silent mind o’er […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. Remember, Please!. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) Remember, Please! When the run of the bowler is measured, And he, with brows knotted, Bowls fierce at your timber-yard treasured, To pot, or be potted, If the ball to the bone that is funny Fly swift as a swallow, And you squeal […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. A Long Grace. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) A Long Grace (W.G. Grace’s XI. versus XXII. of Bath.) Nothing went right. The Champion cut And drove and glanced, and cut again, Till every bowler we possessed Deep down within his smarting breast Half wished he’d lost that early train! Dobbin […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. Cricket and Cupid. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) Cricket and Cupid She understands the game no more Than savages the sun’s eclipse; For all she knows the bowler throws, And Square-Leg stands among the Slips: And when in somersaults a stump Denotes a victim of the game, Her lovely throat begets […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. Five Years After. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) Five Years After Many a mate of splice and leather, Out in the stiff autumnal weather, There we stood by his grave together, After his innings; All on a day of misty yellow Watching in grief a grim old fellow, Death, who diddles […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. The Olympians. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) The Olympians Let those who will believe the Gods On high Olympus do not travel Along the lane that Progress plods, The tricks of mortals to unravel: Let them believe who will they shun The average of C.B. Fry, Or never from their […]
English Poetry. Anne Brontë. The Penitent. Энн Бронте. Кающемуся
Anne Brontë (Энн Бронте) The Penitent I mourn with thee and yet rejoice That thou shouldst sorrow so; With Angel choirs I join my voice To bless the sinner’s woe. Though friends and kindred turn away And laugh thy grief to scorn, I hear the great Redeemer say […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. Uncle Bob Indignant. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) Uncle Bob Indignant (“Flannelled fools at the wicket”) Come, poke the fire, pull round the screen, And fill me up a glass of grog Before I tell of matches seen And heroes of the mighty slog! While hussies play near mistletoe The […]
English Poetry. Norman Rowland Gale. The Female Boy. Норман Гейл.
Norman Rowland Gale (Норман Гейл) The Female Boy If cursed by a son who declined to play cricket, (Supposing him sound and sufficient in thews,) I’d larrup him well with the third of a wicket, Selecting safe parts of his body to bruise. In his mind such an […]
English Poetry. Louise Imogen Guiney. A Ballad of Kenelm. Луиза Имоджен Гвини.
Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини) A Ballad of Kenelm “In Clent cow-batch, Kenelm, King born, Lieth under a thorn.” It was a goodly child, Sweet as the gusty May; It was a knight that broke On his play, A fair and coaxing knight: “O little liege!” […]
English Poetry. Louise Imogen Guiney. A Last View. Луиза Имоджен Гвини.
Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини) A Last View Where down the glen, across the shallow ford, Stretches the open aisle from scene to scene, By halted horses silently we lean, Gazing enchanted from our steeper sward. How yon low loving skies of April hoard An hundred pinnacles, […]
English Poetry. Louise Imogen Guiney. Martyrs’ Memorial. Луиза Имоджен Гвини.
Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини) Martyrs’ Memorial Such natural debts of love our Oxford knows, So many ancient dues undesecrate, I marvel how the landmark of a hate For witness unto future time she chose; How out of her corroborate ranks arose The three, in great denial […]
English Poetry. Louise Imogen Guiney. Port Meadow. Луиза Имоджен Гвини.
Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини) Port Meadow The plain gives freedom. Hither, from the town, How oft a dreamer and a book of yore Escaped the lamplit Square, and heard no more From Cowley border surge the game’s renown; But bade the vernal sky with spices drown […]
English Poetry. Louise Imogen Guiney. Undertones at Magdalen. Луиза Имоджен Гвини.
Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини) Undertones at Magdalen Fair are the finer creature-sounds; of these Is Magdalen full: her bees, the while they drop Susurrant in the garth from weeds atop; And round the priestless Pulpit, auguries Of wrens in council from a hundred leas; And Cherwell […]
English Poetry. Louise Imogen Guiney. On the Same (continued). Луиза Имоджен Гвини.
Louise Imogen Guiney (Луиза Имоджен Гвини) On the Same (continued) Is this the end? Is this the pilgrim’s day For dread, for dereliction, and for tears? Rather, from grass and air and many spheres, In prophecy his spirit sinks away; And under English eaves, more still than they, […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 24. Unfolded out of the Folds. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 24. Unfolded out of the Folds Unfolded out of the folds of the woman man comes unfolded, and is always to come unfolded, Unfolded only out of the superbest woman of the earth is to come the superbest […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 28. Who Learns My Lesson Complete?. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 28. Who Learns My Lesson Complete? Who learns my lesson complete? Boss, journeyman, apprentice, churchman and atheist, The stupid and the wise thinker, parents and offspring, merchant, clerk, porter and customer, Editor, author, artist, and schoolboy—draw nigh and […]
English Poetry. Anne Brontë. The Captive Dove. Энн Бронте.
Anne Brontë (Энн Бронте) The Captive Dove Poor restless dove, I pity thee; And when I hear thy plaintive moan, I mourn for thy captivity, And in thy woes forget mine own. To see thee stand prepared to fly, And flap those useless wings of thine, And gaze […]
English Poetry. William Wordsworth. Expostulation and Reply. Уильям Вордсворт. Увещеванье и ответ
William Wordsworth (Уильям Вордсворт) Expostulation and Reply “Why, William, on that old grey stone, Thus for the length of half a day, Why, William, sit you thus alone, And dream your time away? “Where are your books?–that light bequeathed To Beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up! […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 22. Sparkles from the Wheel. Уолт Уитмен. Листья травы. 24. Из цикла «Осенние ручьи». 22. Искры из-под ножа
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 22. Sparkles from the Wheel Where the city’s ceaseless crowd moves on the livelong day, Withdrawn I join a group of children watching, I pause aside with them. By the curb toward the edge of the flagging, […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 37. My Picture-Gallery. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 37. My Picture-Gallery In a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix’d house, It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other; Yet behold, it has room for […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 32. The Ox-Tamer. Уолт Уитмен. Листья травы. 24. Из цикла «Осенние ручьи». 32. Укротитель быков
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 32. The Ox-Tamer In a far-away northern county in the placid pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my recitative, a famous tamer of oxen, There they bring him the three-year-olds and the four-year-olds to break […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 33. An Old Man’s Thought of School. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 33. An Old Man’s Thought of School [For the Inauguration of a Public School, Camden, New Jersey, 1874] An old man’s thought of school, An old man gathering youthful memories and blooms that youth itself cannot. […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 35. Italian Music in Dakota. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 35. Italian Music in Dakota [“The Seventeenth—the finest Regimental Band I ever heard.”] Through the soft evening air enwinding all, Rocks, woods, fort, cannon, pacing sentries, endless wilds, In dulcet streams, in flutes’ and cornets’ notes, Electric, […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 30. The Torch. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 30. The Torch On my Northwest coast in the midst of the night a fishermen’s group stands watching, Out on the lake that expands before them, others are spearing salmon, The canoe, a dim shadowy thing, moves across […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 21. Miracles. Уолт Уитмен. Листья травы. 24. Из цикла «Осенние ручьи». 21. Чудеса
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 21. Miracles Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 20. Thought. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 20. Thought Of persons arrived at high positions, ceremonies, wealth, scholarships, and the like; (To me all that those persons have arrived at sinks away from them, except as it results to their bodies and souls, So that […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 25. What Am I After All. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 25. What Am I After All What am I after all but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over; I stand apart to hear—it never tires me. To you […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 29. Tests. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 29. Tests All submit to them where they sit, inner, secure, unapproachable to analysis in the soul, Not traditions, not the outer authorities are the judges, They are the judges of outer authorities and of all traditions, They […]
English Poetry. Anne Brontë. Oh, They have Robbed Me of The Hope. Энн Бронте.
Anne Brontë (Энн Бронте) * * * Oh, they have robbed me of the hope My spirit held so dear; They will not let me hear that voice My soul delights to hear. They will not let me see that face I so delight to see; And they […]
English Poetry. Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 19. I Was Looking a Long While. Уолт Уитмен.
Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен) Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 19. I Was Looking a Long While I was looking a long while for Intentions, For a clew to the history of the past for myself, and for these chants—and now I have found it, It is not […]
English Poetry. Emily Pauline Johnson. A Toast. Эмили Полин Джонсон.
Emily Pauline Johnson (Эмили Полин Джонсон) A Toast There’s wine in the cup, Vancouver, And there’s warmth in my heart for you, While I drink to your health, your youth, and your wealth, And the things that you yet will do. In a vintage rare and olden, With […]
English Poetry. Emily Pauline Johnson. Good-Bye. Эмили Полин Джонсон.
Emily Pauline Johnson (Эмили Полин Джонсон) Good-Bye Sounds of the seas grow fainter, Sounds of the sands have sped; The sweep of gales, The far white sails, Are silent, spent and dead. Sounds of the days of summer Murmur and die away, And distance hides The long, […]