English Poetry. Jane Austen. See They Come, Post Haste from Thanet. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) * * * See they come, post haste from Thanet, Lovely couple, side by side; They’ve left behind them Richard Kennet With the Parents of the Bride! Canterbury they have passed through; Next succeeded Stamford-bridge; Chilham village they came fast through; Now they’ve […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. Of a Ministry Pitiful, Angry, Mean. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) * * * Of a Ministry pitiful, angry, mean, A gallant commander the victim is seen. For promptitude, vigour, success, does he stand Condemn’d to receive a severe reprimand! To his foes I could wish a resemblance in fate: That they, too, may suffer […]
English Poetry. Robert Louis Stevenson. A Child’s Garden of Verses. 9. Windy Nights. Роберт Льюис Стивенсон. Детский сад стихов. 9. Бурная ночь
Robert Louis Stevenson (Роберт Льюис Стивенсон) A Child’s Garden of Verses. 9. Windy Nights Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet, A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. Mock Panegyric on a Young Friend. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) Mock Panegyric on a Young Friend In measured verse I’ll now rehearse The charms of lovely Anna: And, first, her mind is unconfined Like any vast savannah. Ontario’s lake may fitly speak Her fancy’s ample bound: Its […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. Miss Lloyd Has Now Went to Miss Green. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) Miss Lloyd Has Now Went to Miss Green Miss Lloyd has now sent to Miss Green, As, on opening the box, may be seen, Some years of a Black Ploughman’s Gauze, To be made up directly, because Miss Lloyd must in mourning appear For […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. Happy the Lab’rer. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) Happy the Lab’rer Happy the lab’rer in his Sunday clothes! In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn’d hose, Andhat upon his head, to church he goes; As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws A glance upon the ample cabbage rose That, stuck in button-hole, […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. Ode to Pity. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) Ode to Pity 1 Ever musing I delight to tread The Paths of honour and the Myrtle Grove Whilst the pale Moon her beams doth shed On disappointed Love. While Philomel on airy hawthorn Bush Sings sweet and Melancholy, And the thrush Converses […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. When Stretch’d on One’s Bed. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) * * * When stretch’d on one’s bed With a fierce-throbbing head, Which preculdes alike thought or repose, How little one cares For the grandest affairs That may busy the world as it goes! How little one […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. To the Memory of Mrs. Lefroy Who Died December 16 – My Birthday.. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) To the Memory of Mrs. Lefroy Who Died December 16 – My Birthday. The day returns again, my natal day; What mix’d emotions with the Thought arise! Beloved friend, four years have pass’d away Since thou wert snatch’d forever from our eyes.– The […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. Oh! Mr. Best, You’re Very Bad. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) * * * Oh! Mr. Best, you’re very bad And all the world shall know it; Your base behaviour shall be sung By me, a tunefull Poet.– You used to go to Harrowgate Each summer as it came, And why I pray should […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. My Dearest Frank, I Wish You Joy. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) * * * My dearest Frank, I wish you joy Of Mary’s safety with a Boy, Whose birth has given little pain Compared with that of Mary Jane.– May he a growing Blessing prove, And well deserve his Parents’ Love!– Endow’d with Art’s […]
English Poetry. Jane Austen. I’ve a Pain in My Head. Джейн Остин.
Jane Austen (Джейн Остин) * * * ’I’ve a pain in my head’ Said the suffering Beckford; To her Doctor so dread. ’Oh! what shall I take for’t?’ Said this Doctor so dread Whose name it was Newnham. ’For this pain in […]
English Poetry. Jane Taylor. Poverty. Джейн Тейлор.
Jane Taylor (Джейн Тейлор) Poverty I saw an old cottage of clay, And only of mud was the floor; It was all falling into decay, And the snow drifted in at the door. Yet there a poor family dwelt, In a hovel so dismal and rude; And […]
English Poetry. Robert Louis Stevenson. About the Sheltered Garden Ground. Роберт Льюис Стивенсон.
Robert Louis Stevenson (Роберт Льюис Стивенсон) About the Sheltered Garden Ground ABOUT the sheltered garden ground The trees stand strangely still. The vale ne’er seemed so deep before, Nor yet so high the hill. An awful sense of quietness, A fulness of repose, Breathes from the dewy […]
English Poetry. Jane Taylor. The Star. Джейн Тейлор.
Jane Taylor (Джейн Тейлор) The Star Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead a-vell into Hand. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead a-vell into Hand The house where I wer born an’ bred, Did own his woaken door, John, When vu’st he shelter’d father’s head, An’ gramfer’s long avore, John. An’ many a ramblèn happy chile, An’ chap so strong […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Day’s Work a-done. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Day’s Work a-done And oh! the jaÿ our rest did yield, At evenèn by the mossy wall, When we’d a-work’d all day a-vield, While zummer zuns did rise an’ vall, As there a-lettèn Goo all frettèn. An’ vorgettèn all our tweils, We […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Dree Woaks. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Dree Woaks By the brow o’ thik hangèn I spent all my youth, In the house that did peep out between The dree woaks, that in winter avworded their lewth, An’ in zummer their sheäde to the green; An’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. Jeäne. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. Jeäne We now mid hope vor better cheer, My smilèn wife o’ twice vive year. Let others frown, if thou bist near Wi’ hope upon thy brow, Jeäne; Vor I vu’st lov’d thee when thy light Young sheäpe vu’st grew […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Stwonèn Pworch. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Stwonèn Pworch A new house! Ees, indeed! a small Straïght, upstart thing, that, after all, Do teäke in only half the groun’ The wold woone did avore ’twer down; Wi’ little windows straïght an’ flat, Not big enough to […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. Aunt’s Tantrums. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. Aunt’s Tantrums Why ees, aunt Anne’s a little staïd, But kind an’ merry, poor wold maïd! If we don’t cut her heart wi’ slights, She’ll zit an’ put our things to rights, Upon a hard day’s work, o’ nights; But […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Pleäce a Teäle’s a-twold o’. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Pleäce a Teäle’s a-twold o’ Why tidden vields an’ runnèn brooks, Nor trees in Spring or fall; An’ tidden woody slopes an’ nooks, Do touch us mwost ov all; An’ tidden ivy that do cling By housen big an’ […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. The Soldier’s Return to His Home. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) The Soldier’s Return to His Home My untried muse shall no high tone assume, Nor strut in arms — farewell, my cap and plume! Brief be my verse, a task within my power; I tell my feelings in one happy hour: But what an […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. Rosamond’s Song of Hope. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) Rosamond’s Song of Hope Sweet Hope, so oft my childhood’s friend, I will believe thee still, For thou canst joy with sorrow blend, Where grief alone would kill. When disappointments wrung my heart, Ill brook’d in tender years, Thou, like a sun, perform’dst […]
English Poetry. Edmund Spenser. Prothalamion. Эдмунд Спенсер.
Edmund Spenser (Эдмунд Спенсер) Prothalamion Calm was the day, and through the trembling air Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan’s beams, which then did glister fair; When I (whom sullen care, Through discontent of my long fruitless stay In prince’s […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. Lines Occasioned by a Visit to Whittlebury Forest, Northamptonshire, in August, 1800. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) Lines Occasioned by a Visit to Whittlebury Forest, Northamptonshire, in August, 1800 Genius of the Forest Shades! Lend thy pow’r, and lend thine ear! A Stranger trod thy lonely glades, Amidst thy dark and bounding Deer; Inquiring Childhood claims the verse, O let them […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. Barnham Water. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) Barnham Water Fresh from the Hall of Bounty sprung, With glowing heart and ardent eye, With song and rhyme upon my tongue, And fairy visions dancing by, The mid-day sun in all his pow’r The backward valley painted gay; Mine was a road without […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. Mary’s Evening Sigh. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) Mary’s Evening Sigh How bright with pearl the western sky! How glorious far and wide, Yon lines of golden clouds that lie So peaceful side by side! Their deep’ning tints, the arch of light, All eyes with rapture see; E’en while I sigh I […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. The Woodland Hallo. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) The Woodland Hallo In our cottage, that peeps from the skirts of the wood, I am mistress, no mother have I; Yet blithe are my days, for my father is good, And kind is my lover hard by; They both work together beneath the […]
English Poetry. Robert Bloomfield. The Horkey. Роберт Блумфилд.
Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд) The Horkey A Provincial Ballad. What gossips prattled in the sun, Who talk’d him fairly down, Up, memory! tell; ’tis Suffolk fun, And lingo of their own. Ah! Judie Twitchet! though thou’rt dead, With thee the tale begins; For still seems thrumming […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. Lines to My Father. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) Lines to My Father The many sow, but only the chosen reap; Happy the wretched host if Day be brief, That with the cool oblivion of sleep A dawnless Night may soothe the smart of grief. If from the soil our sweat enriches […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. To a Brown Boy. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) To a Brown Boy That brown girl’s swagger gives a twitch To beauty like a Queen, Lad, never damn your body’s itch When loveliness is seen. For there is ample room for bliss In pride in clean brown limbs, And lips know better […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. Harlem Wine. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) Harlem Wine This is not water running here, These thick rebellious streams That hurtle flesh and bone past fear Down alleyways of dreams This is a wine that must flow on Not caring how or where So it has ways to flow upon […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. Tableau. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) Tableau Locked arm in arm they cross the way The black boy and the white, The golden splendor of the day The sable pride of night. From lowered blinds the dark folk stare And here the fair folk talk, Indignant that these two […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. Yet Do I Marvel. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) Yet Do I Marvel I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind And did He stoop to quibble could tell why The little buried mole continues blind, Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die, Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus Is […]
English Poetry. Edmund Spenser. The Visions Of Petrarch. Эдмунд Спенсер.
Edmund Spenser (Эдмунд Спенсер) The Visions Of Petrarch Being one day at my window all alone, So manie strange things happened me to see, As much it grieueth me to thinke thereon. At my right hand a Hynde appear’d to mee, So faire as mote the greatest God […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. The Wise. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) The Wise Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot to grow. Dead men alone bear frost and rain On throbless heart and heatless brain, And feel no stir of […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. The Shroud of Color. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) The Shroud of Color ”Lord, being dark,” I said, ”I cannot bear The further touch of earth, the scented air; Lord, being dark, forewilled to that despair My color shrouds me in, I am as dirt Beneath my brother’s heel; there is a […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. The Loss of Love. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) The Loss of Love All through an empty place I go, And find her not in any room; The candles and the lamps I light Go down before a wind of gloom. Thick-spraddled lies the dust about, A fit, sad place to […]
English Poetry. Countee Cullen. That Bright Chimeric Beast. Каунти Каллен.
Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен) * * * That bright chimeric beast Conceived yet never born, Save in the poet’s breast, The white-flanked unicorn, Never may be shaken From his solitude; Never may be taken In any earthly wood. That bird forever feathered, Of its new […]