English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Game of High Toby. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Встреча на большой дороге
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Game of High Toby 1. Now Oliver puts his black night-cap on, And every star its glim is hiding, And forth to the heath is the scampsman gone, His matchless cherry-black prancer riding; Merrily over the Common, […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. Carrion Crow. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Ворона
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) Carrion Crow The Carrion Crow is a sexton bold, He raketh the dead from out the mould; He delveth the ground like a miser old, Stealthily hiding his store of gold. Caw! Caw! The Carrion Crow hath a […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. Marlbrook to the Wars is Coming…. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Мальбрук, что гром, грохочет…
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) * * * MARLBROOK to the wars is coming! I fancy I hear his drumming; ’Twill put an end to the mumming Of our priest-ridden Monarque! For the moment lie enters Flanders, He’ll scare all our brave commanders, […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. The Serenade of Ma-Han-Shan. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) The Serenade of Ma-Han-Shan China COME to the window now, beautiful Yu Ying! The new moon is rising, white as the shell of a pearl. Your honored father and brother And the guests are still at table, Tipping the golden bottles, […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. Summer and Autumn. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) Summer and Autumn THE hot mid-summer, the bright mid-summer Reigns in its glory now: The earth is scorched with a golden fire, There are berries, dead-ripe, on every brier, And fruits on every bough. But the autumn days, so sober and […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. In the Harem. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) In the Harem THE scent of burning sandal-wood Perfumes the air in vain; A sweeter odor fills my sense, A fiercer fire my brain! O, press your burning lips to mine!– For mine will never part, Until my heart has rifled […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. The Grape Gatherer. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) The Grape Gatherer Italy WELL, I have met you cousin, Where not a soul can see: What do you want? “You love me?” You trifle, Sir, with me. You love that grape-girl yonder, The one against the wall: She climbs, and […]
English Poetry. Trumbull Stickney. Loneliness. Трамбэлл Стикни.
Trumbull Stickney (Трамбэлл Стикни) Loneliness THESE autumn gardens, russet, gray and brown, The sward with shrivelled foliage strown, The shrubs and trees By weary wings of sunshine overflown And timid silences,– Since first you, darling, called my spirit yours, Seem happy, and the gladness pours From day […]
English Poetry. Trumbull Stickney. Be Still. The Hanging Gardens Were a Dream. Трамбэлл Стикни.
Trumbull Stickney (Трамбэлл Стикни) * * * BE still. The Hanging Gardens were a dream That over Persian roses flew to kiss The curled lashes of Semiramis. Troy never was, nor green Skamander stream. Provence and Troubadour are merest lies. The glorious hair of Venice was a beam […]
English Poetry. Trumbull Stickney. Six O’Clock. Трамбэлл Стикни.
Trumbull Stickney (Трамбэлл Стикни) Six O’Clock NOW burst above the city’s cold twilight The piercing whistles and the tower-clocks: For day is done. Along the frozen docks The workmen set their ragged shirts aright. Thro’ factory doors a stream of dingy light Follows the scrimmage as it quickly […]
English Poetry. Trumbull Stickney. Mt. Lykaion. Трамбэлл Стикни.
Trumbull Stickney (Трамбэлл Стикни) Mt. Lykaion ALONE on Lykaion since man hath been Stand on the height two columns, where at rest Two eagles hewn of gold sit looking East Forever; and the sun goes down between. Far down the mountain’s oval green An order keeps the falling […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. A Thought in Two Moods. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) A Thought in Two Moods I saw it – pink and white – revealed Upon the white and green; The white and green was a daisied field, The pink and white Ethleen. And as I looked it seemed in kind That difference […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Old Furniture. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Old Furniture I know not how it may be with others Who sit amid relics of householdry That date from the days of their mothers’ mothers, But well I know how it is with me Continually. I see the hands of the […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Royal Sponsors. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Royal Sponsors ‘The king and the queen will stand to the child; ’Twill be handed down in song; And it’s no more than their deserving, With my lord so faithful at Court so long, And so staunch and strong. ‘O never before […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Musical Box. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Musical Box Lifelong to be Seemed the fair colour of the time; That there was standing shadowed near A spirit who sang to the gentle chime Of the self-struck notes, I did not hear, I did not see. Thus did it […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Overlooking the River Stour. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Overlooking the River Stour The swallows flew in the curves of an eight Above the river-gleam In the wet June’s last beam: Like little crossbows animate The swallows flew in the curves of an eight Above the river-gleam. Planing up shavings of […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Head above the Fog. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Head above the Fog Something do I see Above the fog that sheets the mead, A figure like to life indeed, Moving along with spectre-speed, Seen by none but me. O the vision keen! – Tripping along to me for love […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. Will Davies and Dick Turpin. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Вилл Дэвис и Дик Тюрпин
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) Will Davies and Dick Turpin Hodie mihi, crаs tibi. – SAINT AUGUSTIN. One night, when mounted on my mare, To Bagshot Heath I did repair, And saw Will Davies hanging there, Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, With a rustified, fustified, […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Scampsman. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Баллада о разбойнике
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Scampsman Quis verè rex? SENECA. There is not a king, should you search the world round, So blithe as the king of the road to be found; His pistol’s his sceptre, his saddle’s his throne, Whence he levies supplies, or […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Corpse Candle. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Блуждающий огонёк
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Corpse Candle Lambere flamma ταφος et circum funera pasci. Through the midnight gloom did a pale blue light To the churchyard mirk wing its lonesome flight: – Thrice it floated those old walls round – Thrice it paused – till […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Old Water-Drinker’s Grave. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Эпитафия на могилу старого водохлёба
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Old Water-Drinker’s Grave I. A stingy curmudgeon lies under the stone, Who ne’er had the heart to get mellow; — A base water-drinker! — I’m glad he is gone, We’re well rid of the frowsy old fellow. […]
English Poetry. Sydney Thompson Dobell. An Autumn Mood. Сидней Томпсон Добелл.
Sydney Thompson Dobell (Сидней Томпсон Добелл) An Autumn Mood Pile the pyre, light the fire-there is fuel enough and to spare; You have fire enough and to spare with your madness and gladness; Burn the old year-it is dead, and dead, and done. There is something under the […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. Jerry Juniper’s Chant. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Песня Джерри Можжевельника
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) Jerry Juniper’s Chant In a box1 of the stone jug2 I was born, Of a hempen widow3 the kid forlorn. Fake away, And my father, as I’ve heard say, Fake away. Was a merchant of capers4 gay, Who cut his last […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Legend of the Lady of Rookwood. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Легенда о леди Руквуд
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Legend of the Lady of Rookwood Grim Ranulph home hath at midnight come, from the long wars of the Roses, And the squire, who waits at his ancient gates, a secret dark discloses; To that varlet’s words no […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Newgate Stone. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Ньюгейтский Камень
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Newgate Stone I. WHEN CLAUDE DU VAL was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, “You have carved your epitaph, CLAUDE DU VAL, With your chisel […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Legend of the Lime-Tree. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Легенда о Липе
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Legend of the Lime-Tree 1. Amid the grove o’er – arched above with lime – trees old and tall – The avenue that leads unto the Rookwood’s ancient hall – , High o’er the rest its towering […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Modern Greek. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Нынешний грек
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Modern Greek (Not translated from the Romale.) Come, gemmen, name, and make your game, See round the ball is spinning, Black, red, or blue, the colors view, Une, deux, cinque, ’tis beginning, Then make your game, The […]
English Poetry. Robert Southwell. Content and Rich. Роберт Саутвелл.
Robert Southwell (Роберт Саутвелл) Content and Rich I dwell in Grace’s court, Enriched with Virtue’s rights; Faith guides my wit, Love leads my will, Hope all my mind delights. In lowly vales I mount To pleasure’s highest pitch; My silly shroud true honour brings; My poor estate […]
English Poetry. Robert Southwell. Upon the Image of Death. Роберт Саутвелл.
Robert Southwell (Роберт Саутвелл) Upon the Image of Death Before my face the picture hangs That daily should put me in mind Of those cold names and bitter pangs That shortly I am like to find; But yet, alas, full little I Do think hereon that […]
English Poetry. Robert Southwell. New Prince, New Pomp. Роберт Саутвелл.
Robert Southwell (Роберт Саутвелл) New Prince, New Pomp Behold, a seely tender babe In freezing winter night In homely manger trembling lies, – Alas, a piteous sight! The inns are full, no man will yield This little pilgrim bed, But forced he is with seely […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Legend of Valdez. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Легенда о Доне Вальдесе
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Legend of Valdez I. ’Tis night! – Forth Valdez, in disguise, Hies; And his visage, as he glides, Hides. Goes he to yon church to pray? Eh! No! that fane a secret path Hath, Leading to a neighbouring pile’s Aisles! […]
English Poetry. William Butler Yeats. Oil and Blood. Уильям Батлер Йейтс.
William Butler Yeats (Уильям Батлер Йейтс) Oil and Blood IN tombs of gold and lapis lazuli Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled clay Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood; Their shrouds are bloody and […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Twice-Used Ring. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Кольцо с чужой руки
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Twice-Used Ring “Beware thy bridal day!” On her death-bud sighed my mother; “Beware, beware, I say, Death shall wed thee, and no other. Cold the hand shall grasp thee, Cold the arm shall clasp thee, Colder lips […]
English Poetry. William Harrison Ainsworth. The Churchyard Yew. Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт. Кладбищенский тис
William Harrison Ainsworth (Уильям Гаррисон Эйнсворт) The Churchyard Yew —- Metuendaque succo Taxus. STATIUS. A noxious tree is the churchyard yew, As if from the dead its sap it drew; Dark are its branches, and dismal to see, Like plumes at Death’s latest solemnity. Spectral and […]
English Poetry. Robert Southwell. The Burning Babe. Роберт Саутвелл.
Robert Southwell (Роберт Саутвелл) The Burning Babe As I in hoary winter’s night stood shivering in the snow, Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow; And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near, A pretty babe all burning bright […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. How are Songs Begot and Bred?. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) * * * HOW are songs begot and bred? How do golden measures flow? From the heart, or from the head? Happy Poet, let me know. Tell me first how folded flowers Bud and bloom in vernal bowers; How the south […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. The Moon on the Spire. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) The Moon on the Spire THE white clouds lie in drifts to-night Around the moon, whose silver fire Kindles the old Cathedral spire, And makes the cross a living light. It gleams and twinkles through my blinds, It shines on those […]
English Poetry. Richard Henry Stoddard. To Edmund Clarence Stedman. Ричард Генри Стоддард.
Richard Henry Stoddard (Ричард Генри Стоддард) To Edmund Clarence Stedman (With Shakespeare’s Sonnets) HAD we been living in the antique days, With him, whose young but cunning fingers penned These sugared sonnets to his strange-sweet friend, I dare be sworn we would have won the bays. Why […]
English Poetry. Harriet Beecher Stowe. The Other World. Гарриет Бичер-Стоу.
Harriet Beecher Stowe (Гарриет Бичер-Стоу) The Other World It lies around us like a cloud, A world we do not see; Yet the sweet closing of an eye May bring us there to be. Its gentle breezes fan our cheek; Amid our worldly cares, Its gentle voices […]
English Poetry. Harriet Beecher Stowe. Midnight. Гарриет Бичер-Стоу.
Harriet Beecher Stowe (Гарриет Бичер-Стоу) Midnight All dark! – no light, no ray! Sun, moon, and stars, all gone! Dimness of anguish! – utter void! - Crushed, and alone! One waste of weary pain, One dull, unmeaning ache, A heart too weary even to throb, Too bruised […]