English Poetry. William Browne. Night. Уильям Броун.

William Browne (Уильям Броун) Night Now great Hyperion left his golden throne That on the dancing waves in glory shone, For whose declining on the western shore The oriental hills black mantles wore, And thence apace the gentle twilight fled, That had from hideous caverns ushered All-drowsy Night, […]

English Poetry. William Browne. To England. Уильям Броун.

William Browne (Уильям Броун) To England Hail, thou my native soil! thou blessed plot Whose equal all the world affordeth not! Show me who can so many crystal rills, Such sweet-clothed valleys or aspiring hills; Such wood-ground, pastures, quarries, wealthy mines; Such rocks in whom the diamond fairly […]