English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. A Legend of Cologne. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) A Legend of Cologne Above the bones St. Ursula owns, And those of the virgins she chaperons; Above the boats, And the bridge that floats, And the Rhine and the steamers’ smoky throats; Above the chimneys and quaint-tiled roofs, Above the […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Aspiring Miss De Laine. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Aspiring Miss De Laine (A CHEMICAL NARRATIVE) Certain facts which serve to explain The physical charms of Miss Addie De Laine, Who, as the common reports obtain, Surpassed in complexion the lily and rose; With a very sweet mouth and a […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Guild’s Signal. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Guild’s Signal [William Guild was engineer of the train which on the 19th of April, 1813, plunged into Meadow Brook, on the line of the Stonington and Providence Railroad. It was his custom, as often as he passed his home, to […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. ”Twenty Years”. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) ”Twenty Years” Beg your pardon, old fellow! I think I was dreaming just now when you spoke. The fact is, the musical clink Of the ice on your wine-goblet’s brink A chord of my memory woke. And I stood in […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. What the Chimney Sang. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) What the Chimney Sang Over the chimney the night-wind sang And chanted a melody no one knew; And the Woman stopped, as her babe she tossed, And thought of the one she had long since lost, And said, as her teardrops […]
English Poetry. Thomas Chatterton. Englysh Metamorphosis. Томас Чаттертон.
Thomas Chatterton (Томас Чаттертон) Englysh Metamorphosis BOOKE st. WHANNE Scythyannes, salvage as the wolves theie chacde, Peyncted in horrowe formes bie nature dyghte, Heckled yn beastskyns, slepte uponne the waste, And wyth the morneynge rouzed the wolfe to fyghte, Swefte as descendeynge lemes of roddie lyghte Plonged […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Artemis in Sierra. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Artemis in Sierra DRAMATIS PERSONAE Poet. Philosopher. Jones of Mariposa. POET Halt! Here we are. Now wheel your mare a trifle Just where you stand; then doff your hat and swear Never yet was scene you might cover […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Grizzly. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Grizzly Coward,–of heroic size, In whose lazy muscles lies Strength we fear and yet despise; Savage,–whose relentless tusks Are content with acorn husks; Robber,–whose exploits ne’er soared O’er the bee’s or squirrel’s hoard; Whiskered chin and feeble nose, Claws of steel on […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Mountain Heart’s-Ease. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Mountain Heart’s-Ease By scattered rocks and turbid waters shifting, By furrowed glade and dell, To feverish men thy calm, sweet face uplifting, Thou stayest them to tell The delicate thought that cannot find expression, For ruder speech too fair, […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. San Francisco. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) San Francisco (FROM THE SEA) Serene, indifferent of Fate, Thou sittest at the Western Gate; Upon thy height, so lately won, Still slant the banners of the sun; Thou seest the white seas strike their tents, O Warder of […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. A Newport Romance. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) A Newport Romance They say that she died of a broken heart (I tell the tale as ’twas told to me); But her spirit lives, and her soul is part Of this sad old house by the sea. Her lover […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. A Greyport Legend. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) A Greyport Legend (1797) They ran through the streets of the seaport town, They peered from the decks of the ships that lay; The cold sea-fog that came whitening down Was never as cold or white as they. ”Ho, Starbuck and […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Jack of the Tules. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Jack of the Tules (SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA) Shrewdly you question, Senor, and I fancy You are no novice. Confess that to little Of my poor gossip of Mission and Pueblo You are a stranger! Am I not right? Ah! believe me, […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. The Young Lover. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) The Young Lover 1. TUsh! never tell me, I’m too young For loving, or too Green, She staies at least seven years too long That’s wedded at fourteen. Age and Discretion fit Grave Matrons, whose desires and youths are past. Love needs not, […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. The Contrary. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) The Contrary 1. NAy prithee do, be coy and slight me, I must love, though thou abhor it, This pretty niceness does invite me: Scorn me, and I’ll love thee for it. That World of beauty that is in you, I’ll overcome like […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. The Libertine. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) The Libertine 1. PErswade me not, I vow I’ll love no more, My heart has now ta’n quarter; My fetters I’ll no more adore, Nor madly run, as heretofore, To break my freedoms Charter: He, that once fails, may try again; But who […]
English Poetry. Thomas Chatterton. An Excelente Balade of Charitie: As Wroten bie the Gode Pri. Томас Чаттертон.
Thomas Chatterton (Томас Чаттертон) An Excelente Balade of Charitie: As Wroten bie the Gode Pri In Virgynë the sweltrie sun gan sheene, And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie; The apple rodded from its palie greene, And the mole peare did bende the leafy spraie; The […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. Loves Anarchy. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) Loves Anarchy 1. LOve, I must tell thee, I’ll no longer be A Victime to thy beardless Deity: Nor shall this heart of mine, Now ’tis return’d, Be offered at thy shrine, Or at thine Altar burn’d▪ Love, like Religion’s made an airy […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. The Hard Heart. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) The Hard Heart 1. STill so hard-hearted? what may be The sin thou hast committed? That now the angry Deity Has to a Rock congealed thee, And thus thy hardness fitted? To make one act both sin and curse, And plague thy hardness […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. To his Mistress (WHy dost thou frown my dear, on me?). Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) To his Mistress (WHy dost thou frown my dear, on me?) 1. WHy dost thou frown my dear, on me? Come change that angry face. What though I kist that Prodigie, And did her ugly limbs embrace? ‘Twas only ’cause thou wert in […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Not goo Hwome To-night. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Not goo Hwome To-night No, no, why you’ve noo wife at hwome Abidèn up till you do come, Zoo leäve your hat upon the pin, Vor I’m your waïter. Here’s your inn, Wi’ chair to rest, an’ bed to roost; You have […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Lwonesomeness. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Lwonesomeness As I do zew, wi’ nimble hand, In here avore the window’s light, How still do all the housegear stand Around my lwonesome zight. How still do all the housegear stand Since Willie now ’ve a-left the land. The rwose-tree’s […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Slidèn. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Slidèn When wind wer keen, Where ivy-green Did clwosely wind Roun’ woak-tree rind, An’ ice shone bright, An’ meäds wer white, wi’ thin-spread snow Then on the pond, a-spreadèn wide, We bwoys did zweep along the slide, A-strikèn on in merry row. […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Beän-vield. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Beän-vield ’Twer where the zun did warm the lewth, An’ win’ did whiver in the sheäde, The sweet-aïr’d beans were out in blooth, Down there ’ithin the elem gleäde; A yollow-banded bee did come, An’ softly-pitch, wi’ hushèn hum, Upon a […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. True Love. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. True Love As evenèn aïr, in green-treed Spring, Do sheäke the new-sprung pa’sley bed, An’ wither’d ash-tree keys do swing An’ vall a-flutt’rèn roun’ our head: There, while the birds do zing their zong In bushes down the ash-tree drong, Come Jessie […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Jessie Lee. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Jessie Lee Above the timber’s bendèn sh’ouds, The western wind did softly blow; An’ up avore the knap, the clouds Did ride as white as driven snow. Vrom west to east the clouds did zwim Wi’ wind that plied the elem’s lim’; […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. To his Mistress (LAdy you’l wonder when you see). Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) To his Mistress (LAdy you’l wonder when you see) 1. LAdy you’l wonder when you see With those bright twins of eyes, These ragged lines that •r•wle from me, And note the contrariety That both in them and in their Author lies: […]
English Poetry. Gerard Manley Hopkins. Peace. Джерард Мэнли Хопкинс.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (Джерард Мэнли Хопкинс) Peace When will you ever, Peace, wild wooddove, shy wings shut, Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs? When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I’ll not play hypocrite To own my heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. The Counsel. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) The Counsel 1. WHy’s my friend so melancholy? Prithe why so sad, why so sad? Beauty’s vain, and Love’s a folly, Page 7Wealth and women make men mad. To him that has a heart that’s jolly Nothing’s grievous, Nothing’s sad. Come, cheer up […]
English Poetry. Alexander Brome. The Indifferent. Александр Бром.
Alexander Brome (Александр Бром) The Indifferent 1. MIstake me not, I am not of that mind To hate all woman kind; Nor can you so my patience vex; To make my Muse blaspheme your sex, Nor with my Satyrs bite you; Though there are some in your […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Spelling Bee at Angels. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Spelling Bee at Angels (REPORTED BY TRUTHFUL JAMES) Waltz in, waltz in, ye little kids, and gather round my knee, And drop them books and first pot-hooks, and hear a yarn from me. I kin not sling a fairy tale […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Thought-Reader of Angels. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Thought-Reader of Angels REPORTED BY TRUTHFUL JAMES We hev tumbled ez dust Or ez worms of the yearth; Wot we looked for hez bust! We are objects of mirth! They have played us–old Pards of the river!–they hev played us […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. A Question of Privilege. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) A Question of Privilege REPORTED BY TRUTHFUL JAMES It was Andrew Jackson Sutter who, despising Mr. Cutter for remarks he heard him utter in debate upon the floor, Swung him up into the skylight, in the peaceful, pensive twilight, and then […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Stage-Driver’s Story. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Stage-Driver’s Story It was the stage-driver’s story, as he stood with his back to the wheelers, Quietly flecking his whip, and turning his quid of tobacco; While on the dusty road, and blent with the rays of the moonlight, We saw […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. ”Seventy-Nine”. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) ”Seventy-Nine” (MR. INTERVIEWER INTERVIEWED) Know me next time when you see me, won’t you, old smarty? Oh, I mean YOU, old figger-head,–just the same party! Take out your pensivil, d–n you; sharpen it, do! Any complaints to make? Lots of ’em–one […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Ghost That Jim Saw. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Ghost That Jim Saw Why, as to that, said the engineer, Ghosts ain’t things we are apt to fear; Spirits don’t fool with levers much, And throttle-valves don’t take to such; And as for Jim, What happened to him Was […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Further Language from Truthful James. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Further Language from Truthful James (NYE’S FORD, STANISLAUS, 1870) Do I sleep? do I dream? Do I wonder and doubt? Are things what they seem? Or is visions about? Is our civilization a failure? Or is the Caucasian played out? […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. ”The Return of Belisarius”. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) ”The Return of Belisarius” (MUD FLAT, 1860) So you’re back from your travels, old fellow, And you left but a twelvemonth ago; You’ve hobnobbed with Louis Napoleon, Eugenie, and kissed the Pope’s toe. By Jove, it is perfectly stunning, Astounding,–and all […]
English Poetry. Gerard Manley Hopkins. The Habit of Perfection. Джерард Мэнли Хопкинс.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (Джерард Мэнли Хопкинс) The Habit of Perfection Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorlèd ear, Pipe me to pastures still and be The music that I care to hear. Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb: It is the shut, the curfew sent […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. His Answer to ”Her Letter”. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) His Answer to ”Her Letter” (REPORTED BY TRUTHFUL JAMES) Being asked by an intimate party,– Which the same I would term as a friend,– Though his health it were vain to call hearty, Since the mind to deceit it might lend; […]