English Poetry. Alexander Brome. Love’s without Reason. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) Love’s without Reason 1. ‘TIs not my Ladies face that makes me loue her, Though beauty there doth rest, Enough t’ inflame the breast Of one, that never did discover The glories of a face before; But I that have seen thousands more […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. An Ode of Anacreon paraphrased. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) An Ode of Anacreon paraphrased Beauties force. I Wonder why Dame Nature thus Her various gifts dispences; She every creature else but us With arms, or armour fences. The Bull with bended horns she arms; With hoofs she guards the Horse; […]
English Poetry. Patrick Brontë. The Cottage Maid. Патрик Бронте.
Patrick Brontë (Патрик Бронте) The Cottage Maid Aloft on the brow of a mountain, And hard by a clear running fountain, In neat little cot, Content with her lot, Retired, there lives a sweet maiden. Her father is dead, and her brother– And now she alone with […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Mad. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Mad Could I but hear you laugh across the street, Though I, or mine, shared nothing in your glee, Could I taste that one drop of bitter sweet, ’Twere more than life to me. If I might see you coming through the […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. The Other. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) The Other All alone with my heart to-night I sit, and wonder, and sigh. What is she like, is she dark, or light, This other woman who has the right To love him better than I? We never have spoken her […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Courage. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Courage Whether the way be dark or light My soul shall sing as I journey on, As sweetly sing in the deeps of night As it sang in the burst of the golden dawn. Nothing can crush me, or silence me […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Trifles. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Trifles Only a spar from a broken ship Washed in by a careless wave; But it brought back the smile of a vanished lip, And his past peered out of the grave. Only a leaf that an idle breeze Tossed at […]
English Poetry. Gilbert Keith Chesterton. For a War Memorial. Гилберт Кит Честертон.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (Гилберт Кит Честертон) For a War Memorial (Suggested inscription probably not suggested by the committee) The hucksters haggle in the mart The cars and carts go by; Senates and schools go droning on; For dead things cannot die. A storm stooped on […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Rondeau. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Rondeau As you forgot I may forget, When summer dews cease to be wet. When whippoorwills disdain the night, When sun and moon are no more bright, And all the stars at midnight set. When jay birds sing, and thrushes fret, […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Worn Out. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Worn Out I saw a young heart in the grasp of pain; With bruised breast, and broken, bleeding wing Shipwrecked on hopeless love’s tempestuous main, Lay the poor tortured thing. It pulsed with all the anguish of despair; It ached with […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. He Will Not Come. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) He Will Not Come Take out the blossom in your hair abloom, No more it seemeth beautiful, or bright, And sickening is its subtly sweet perfume– He will not come to-night. Take off the necklace with its sparkling gem, And rings […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. More Fortunate. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) More Fortunate I hold that life more fortunate by far That sits with its sweet memories alone And cherishes a joy for ever flown Beyond the reach of accident to mar. (Some joy that was extinguished like a star) Than that which […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Worth Living. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Worth Living I know not what the future may hold, Or how to others it seems, But I know my skies have held more gold Than I used to find in my dreams. Though the whole world sings of hopes death […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. The Under-Tone. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) The Under-Tone In the dull, dim dawn of day I heard The twitter and thrill of a brown-backed bird, As he sat and sang in the leafless tree, A herald of beautiful days to be. But the minor running under the […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. It Does Not Matter. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) It Does Not Matter It does not matter very much to me Through what strange ways my pathway now may lead; Since I know that it runs away from thee, I give it little heed. It does not matter if in […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. No Comfort. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) No Comfort O mad with mirth are the birds to-day That over my head are winging. There is nothing but glee in the roundelay That I hear them singing, singing. On wings of light, up, out of sight– I watch them airily […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Two (As I sat in my opera box last night). Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Two (As I sat in my opera box last night) As I sat in my opera box last night In a glimmer of gems and a blaze of light, And smiling that all might see, This curious thought came all unsought– That there […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. If One Should Dive Deep. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) If One Should Dive Deep Once more on the beach with the shifting clouds o’er me (Like the friends of a day), And the sea all unchanged, like a true friend before me, How the years flow away, How the summers go […]
English Poetry. Gilbert Keith Chesterton. A Ballad of Theatricals. Гилберт Кит Честертон. Баллада театральная
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (Гилберт Кит Честертон) A Ballad of Theatricals Though all the critics’ canons grow- Far seedier than the actors’ own- Although the cottage-door’s too low- Although the fairy’s twenty stone- Although, just like the telephone, She comes by wire and not by wings, Though all the […]
English Poetry. George Gordon Byron. Song to the Suliotes. Джордж Гордон Байрон. Песнь к сулиотам
George Gordon Byron (Джордж Гордон Байрон) Song to the Suliotes 1. Up to battle! Sons of Suli Up, and do your duty duly! There the wall—and there the Moat is: Bouwah! Bouwah! Suliotes! There is booty—there is Beauty, Up my boys and do your duty. 2. […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. A Wakeful Night. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) A Wakeful Night In the dark and the gloom when winds were fretting Like restless children worn out with play, I said to my heart, ’This task, forgetting– Is harder now than it is by day. For a hungry love that hides from […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Ballad of Mr. Cooke. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Ballad of Mr. Cooke (LEGEND OF THE CLIFF HOUSE, SAN FRANCISCO) Where the sturdy ocean breeze Drives the spray of roaring seas, That the Cliff House balconies Overlook: There, in spite of rain that balked, With his sandals duly chalked, […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. To the Pliocene Skull. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) To the Pliocene Skull (A GEOLOGICAL ADDRESS) ”Speak, O man, less recent! Fragmentary fossil! Primal pioneer of pliocene formation, Hid in lowest drifts below the earliest stratum Of volcanic tufa! ”Older than the beasts, the oldest Palaeotherium; Older than the […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Before the Curtain. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Before the Curtain Behind the footlights hangs the rusty baize, A trifle shabby in the upturned blaze Of flaring gas and curious eyes that gaze. The stage, methinks, perhaps is none too wide, And hardly fit for royal Richard’s stride, […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Her Last Letter. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Her Last Letter BEING A REPLY TO ”HIS ANSWER” June 4th! Do you know what that date means? June 4th! By this air and these pines! Well,–only you know how I hate scenes,– These might be my very last lines! For […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Lines to a Portrait, by a Superior Person. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Lines to a Portrait, by a Superior Person When I bought you for a song, Years ago–Lord knows how long!– I was struck–I may be wrong– By your features, And–a something in your air That I couldn’t quite compare To my […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Birds of Cirencester. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Birds of Cirencester Did I ever tell you, my dears, the way That the birds of Cisseter–”Cisseter!” eh? Well ”Ciren-cester”–one OUGHT to say, From ”Castra,” or ”Caster,” As your Latin master Will further explain to you some day; Though even […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. On William Francis Bartlett. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) On William Francis Bartlett DEAD AT PITTSFIELD, MASS., 1876 O poor Romancer–thou whose printed page, Filled with rude speech and ruder forms of strife, Was given to heroes in whose vulgar rage No trace appears of gentler ways and life!– […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. ”Crotalus”. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) ”Crotalus” (RATTLESNAKE BAR, SIERRAS) No life in earth, or air, or sky; The sunbeams, broken silently, On the bared rocks around me lie,– Cold rocks with half-warmed lichens scarred, And scales of moss; and scarce a yard Away, one long […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Mission Bells of Monterey. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Mission Bells of Monterey O bells that rang, O bells that sang Above the martyrs’ wilderness, Till from that reddened coast-line sprang The Gospel seed to cheer and bless, What are your garnered sheaves to-day? O Mission bells! Eleison bells! […]
English Poetry. Gilbert Keith Chesterton. A Cider Song. Гилберт Кит Честертон.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (Гилберт Кит Честертон) A Cider Song To J.S.M. The wine they drink in Paradise They make in Haute Lorraine; God brought it burning from the sod To be a sign and signal rod That they that drink the blood of God Shall never thirst […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Station-Master of Lone Prairie. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Station-Master of Lone Prairie An empty bench, a sky of grayest etching, A bare, bleak shed in blackest silhouette, Twelve years of platform, and before them stretching Twelve miles of prairie glimmering through the wet. North, south, east, west,–the […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Echo-Elf Answers. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Echo-Elf Answers How much shall I love her? For life, or not long? ‘Not long.’ Alas! When forget her? In years, or by June? ‘By June.’ And whom woo I after? No one, or a throng? ‘A throng.’ Of […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. To a Sea-Cliff. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) To a Sea-Cliff (Durlston Head) Lend me an ear While I read you here A page from your history, Old cliff – not known To your solid stone, Yet yours inseparably. Near to your crown There once sat down A silent […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. An Expostulation. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) An Expostulation Why want to go afar Where pitfalls are, When all we swains adore Your featness more and more As heroine of our artless masquings here, And count few Wessex’ daughters half so dear? Why paint your appealing face, When its […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Retty’s Phases. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Retty’s Phases I Retty used to shake her head, Look with wicked eye; Say, ‘I’d tease you, simple Ned, If I cared to try!’ Then she’d hot-up scarlet red, Stilly step away, Much afraid that what she’d said Sounded bold to say. […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Sheep-Boy. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Sheep-Boy A yawning, sunned concave Of purple, spread as an ocean wave Entroughed on a morning of swell and sway After a night when wind-fiends have been heard to rave: Thus was the Heath called ‘Draäts’, on an August day. Suddenly […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Thing Unplanned. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Thing Unplanned The white winter sun struck its stroke on the bridge, The meadow-rills rippled and gleamed As I left the thatched post-office, just by the ridge, And dropped in my pocket her long tender letter, With: ‘This must be snapped! it […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Under High-Stoy Hill. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Under High-Stoy Hill Four climbed High-Stoy from Ivelwards, Where hedge meets hedge, and cart-ruts wind, Chattering like birds, And knowing not what lay behind. We laughed beneath the moonlight blink, Said supper would be to our mind, And did not think Of […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Why Should We Sigh. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Why Should We Sigh Why should we sigh o’er a summer that’s dead– Let us think of the summer to be. It always better to look ahead, For the rose will come again just as red And just as fair to see. […]