English Poetry. William Blake. I Saw a Chapel. Уильям Блейк. Золотая часовня
William Blake (Уильям Блейк) I Saw a Chapel I saw a chapel all of gold That none did dare to enter in, And many weeping stood without, Weeping, mourning, worshipping. I saw a serpent rise between The white pillars of the door, And he forc’d and forc’d […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. To My Bride. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. To My Bride (WHOEVER SHE MAY BE) Oh! little maid!—(I do not know your name Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution I’ll add)—Oh, buxom widow! married dame! (As one of these must be your present […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. Disillusioned. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. Disillusioned BY AN EX-ENTHUSIAST Oh, that my soul its gods could see As years ago they seemed to me When first I painted them; Invested with the circumstance Of old conventional romance: Exploded theorem! The bard who […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. To My Son, Age 26, a Captain of Infantry in Portugal, 1798. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) To My Son, Age 26, a Captain of Infantry in Portugal, 1798 THOUGH fancy and her airy train From sad experience fly away, The heart’s affections still remain, And hail with joy this welcome day. Again with roses newly blown I crown the long […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. William and Nancy. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) William and Nancy A BALLAD. FOUNDED UPON AN INTERESTING INCIDENT WHICH TOOK PLACE ON THE EMBARKATION OF THE 85TH REGIMENT FOR HOLLAND AT RAMSGATE, AUGUST 10, 1799. AS on the transport’s dusky side Young William stood with folded arms, Silent he watch’d […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. The Farewell. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) The Farewell A SONG. FAR from hope, and lost to pleasure, Haste away to war’s alarms! Sad I leave my soul’s dear treasure For the dismal din of arms. But, ah! for thee, I follow glory, To gain thy love I dare to […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. November, 1784. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) November, 1784 NOW yellow autumn’s leafy ruins lie In faded splendor, on deserted plains, Far from the madding crowd, alone I fly, To wake in solitude the mystic strains. On themes of high import I dare to sing, While Fate impels my hand to […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. Song 10. O Tuneful voice, I still deplore. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) Song 10. O Tuneful voice, I still deplore O Tuneful voice, I still deplore Those accents which, tho’ heard no more, Still vibrate on my heart; In echo’s cave I long to dwell, And still would hear the sad farewell, When we were doom’d […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. Lelia, or, The Maniac’s Song. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) Lelia, or, The Maniac’s Song COME, ye wild winds, that round the welkin fly, Bear the sad Lelia on your wings of air, Then shall she downward cast a pitying eye On all the troubled sons of toilsome care. I had a friend, she […]
English Poetry. Richard Watson Gilder. The New Day. Part 3. 9. Love’s Jealousy. Ричард Уотсон Гилдер.
Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер) The New Day. Part 3. 9. Love’s Jealousy Of other men I know no jealousy, Nor of the maid who holds thee close, O, close! But of the June-red, summer-scented rose, And of the barred and golden sunset sky That wins the […]
English Poetry. Richard Watson Gilder. The New Day. Part 3. 8. “Thy Lover, Love, Would Have Some Nobler Way”. Ричард Уотсон Гилдер.
Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер) The New Day. Part 3. 8. “Thy Lover, Love, Would Have Some Nobler Way” Thy lover, Love, would have some nobler way To tell his love, his noble love to tell, Than rhymes set ringing like a silver bell. O, […]
English Poetry. George MacDonald. Galileo. Джордж Макдональд.
George MacDonald (Джордж Макдональд) Galileo ‘And yet it moves!’ Ah, Truth, where wert thou then When all for thee they racked each piteous limb? Wert thou in heaven, and busy with thy hymn When those poor hands convulsed that held thy pen? Art thou a phantom that deceives! […]
English Poetry. Richard Watson Gilder. The New Day. Part 3. 7. Body and Soul. Ричард Уотсон Гилдер.
Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер) The New Day. Part 3. 7. Body and Soul I O, thou my Love, love first my lonely soul! Then shall this too unworthy body of mine Be loved by right and accident divine. Forget the flesh, that the […]
English Poetry. Richard Watson Gilder. The New Day. Part 3. 6. “Love Me Not, Love, for That I First Loved Thee”. Ричард Уотсон Гилдер.
Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер) The New Day. Part 3. 6. “Love Me Not, Love, for That I First Loved Thee” Love me not, Love, for that I first loved thee; Nor love me, Love, for thy sweet pity’s sake, In knowledge of the mortal […]
English Poetry. Richard Watson Gilder. The New Day. Part 3. 5. “I Will Be Brave for Thee”. Ричард Уотсон Гилдер.
Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер) The New Day. Part 3. 5. “I Will Be Brave for Thee” I will be brave for thee, dear heart; for thee My boasted bravery forego. I will For thee be wise, or lose my little skill; Coward or brave; wise, […]
English Poetry. Richard Watson Gilder. The New Day. Part 3. 4. “What Would I Win Thee To?”. Ричард Уотсон Гилдер.
Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер) The New Day. Part 3. 4. “What Would I Win Thee To?” What would I win thee to? dear heart and true! A thought of bliss, a thornless life? Ah no! Through weeping pain, Love, I would let thee go; Through weary […]
English Poetry. Josephine Preston Peabody. Cow-Bells. Жозефина Престон Пибоди.
Josephine Preston Peabody (Жозефина Престон Пибоди) Cow-Bells I’ve followed till the Sun was down, As low as to the very brink; And still the pathway kept along, Around the world, I think. I’ve tried to find it, everywhere A bell would clink, and clink, and call; But […]
English Poetry. Josephine Preston Peabody. Candle-Light. Жозефина Престон Пибоди.
Josephine Preston Peabody (Жозефина Престон Пибоди) Candle-Light When I’ve wished on my first star, While the rest begin, And the grass is waking up, Oh, She calls us in!– Then She calls us in. But I wouldn’t go, unless I were sure there’d be Something more like […]
English Poetry. Josephine Preston Peabody. The Christmas Tree. Жозефина Престон Пибоди.
Josephine Preston Peabody (Жозефина Престон Пибоди) The Christmas Tree I know you’re in the house; I know you are in there; I feel the green and breathing All around the air. I know you’re safe and warm; I know you’re very near. Oh, darling Tree, Do you hear? […]
English Poetry. Josephine Preston Peabody. Secrets. Жозефина Престон Пибоди.
Josephine Preston Peabody (Жозефина Престон Пибоди) Secrets I have a secret to myself, That no one else can see. I hum it over to myself, And no one hears but me. –Something You don’t know! I knew long ago.– And the more I never tell you it, The […]
English Poetry. Josephine Preston Peabody. The Sorrows. Жозефина Престон Пибоди.
Josephine Preston Peabody (Жозефина Престон Пибоди) The Sorrows If This is all it will be like, I wish to Die;–I don’t care how– While I am very, very young; As young as almost Now. They never felt what Sorrow was; Or never learned their Golden Rule; They […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To Laurels. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To Laurels A funeral stone Or verse, I covet none; But only crave Of you that I may have A sacred laurel springing from my grave: Which being seen Blest with perpetual green, May grow to be Not so much call’d a tree, […]
English Poetry. George MacDonald. A Better Thing. Джордж Макдональд.
George MacDonald (Джордж Макдональд) A Better Thing I took it for a bird of prey that soared High over ocean, battled mount, and plain; ‘Twas but a bird-moth, which with limp horns gored The invisibly obstructing window-pane! Better than eagle, with far-towering nerve But downward bent, greedy, […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. Anacreontic. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) Anacreontic Born I was to be old, And for to die here; After that, in the mould Long for to lie here. But before that day comes, Still I be bousing; For I know, in the tombs There’s no carousing. Robert Herrick’s other […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. His Winding-Sheet. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) His Winding-Sheet Come thou, who art the wine and wit Of all I’ve writ; The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest; Thou art of what I did intend The All, and End; And what was made, was made to […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. On Himself (A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d here). Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) On Himself (A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d here) A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d here, Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year; Long I have lasted in this world; ’tis true But yet those years that I have lived, but few. Who […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. His Age. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) His Age DEDICATED TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKES, UNDER THE NAME OF POSTUMUS Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle from the brow; But we must on, […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To His Dying Brother, Master William Herrick. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To His Dying Brother, Master William Herrick Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight, But stay the time till we have bade good-night. Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way As soon dispatch’d is by the night […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. All Things Decay with Time. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) * * * All things decay with time: The forest sees The growth and down-fall of her aged trees; That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood The proud dictator of the state-like wood, I mean the sovereign of all plants, the oak, Droops, […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. A Panegyric to Sir Lewis Pemberton. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) A Panegyric to Sir Lewis Pemberton Till I shall come again, let this suffice, I send my salt, my sacrifice To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far As to thy Genius and thy Lar; To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen, […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. West Wind in Winter. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) West Wind in Winter Another day awakes. And who— Changing the world—is this? He comes at whiles, the winter through, West Wind! I would not miss His sudden tryst: the long, the new Surprises of his kiss. Vigilant, I make haste to close […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. The Roaring Frost. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) The Roaring Frost A flock of winds came winging from the North, Strong birds with fighting pinions driving forth With a resounding call:— Where will they close their wings and cease their cries— Between what warming seas and conquering skies— And fold, and […]
English Poetry. Chidiock Tichborne. My Prime of Youth Is but a Frost of Cares. Чайдиок Тичборн. «Моя весна – зима моих тревог…»
Chidiock Tichborne (Чайдиок Тичборн) * * * My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of pain, My crop of corn is but a field of tares, And all my good is but vain hope of gain. The […]
English Poetry. George MacDonald. Riddles. Джордж Макдональд.
George MacDonald (Джордж Макдональд) Riddles I. I have only one foot, but thousands of toes; My one foot stands well, but never goes; I’ve a good many arms, if you count them all, But hundreds of fingers, large and small; From the ends of my fingers my […]
English Poetry. Thomas Bateson. Sister, Awake! Close Not Your Eyes. Томас Бейтсон. «Cкорей проснись…»
Thomas Bateson (Томас Бейтсон) * * * Sister, awake! close not your eyes, The day her light discloses; And the bright morning doth arise Out of her bed of roses. See the clear sun, the world’s bright eye, In at our window […]
English Poetry. Phillis Wheatley. On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell, 1769. Филлис Уитли.
Phillis Wheatley (Филлис Уитли) On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell, 1769 ERE yet the morn its lovely blushes spread, See Sewell number’d with the happy dead. Hail, holy man, arriv’d th’ immortal shore, Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more. Come, let us all […]
English Poetry. Phillis Wheatley. To the King’s Most Excellent Majesty. 1768. Филлис Уитли.
Phillis Wheatley (Филлис Уитли) To the King’s Most Excellent Majesty. 1768 YOUR subjects hope, dread Sire— The crown upon your brows may flourish long, And that your arm may in your God be strong! O may your sceptre num’rous nations sway, And all with love and readiness obey! […]
English Poetry. Henry Newbolt. San Stefano. Генри Ньюболт.
Henry Newbolt (Генри Ньюболт) San Stefano (A Ballad of the Bold Menelaus) It was morning at St. Helen’s, in the great and gallant days, And the sea beneath the sun glittered wide, When the frigate set her courses, all a-shimmer in the haze And she hauled her […]
English Poetry. Henry Newbolt. The Fighting Téméraire. Генри Ньюболт.
Henry Newbolt (Генри Ньюболт) The Fighting Téméraire It was eight bells ringing, For the morning watch was done, And the gunner’s lads were singing As they polished every gun. It was eight bells ringing, And the gunner’s lads were singing, For the ship she rode a-swinging, As they […]
English Poetry. John Godfrey Saxe. A Persian Tale. Джон Годфри Сакс.
John Godfrey Saxe (Джон Годфри Сакс) A Persian Tale That blessings lost, though hard to bear, Are light when weighed with carking care, — Some ill whose ever-goading spite Affects us morning, noon, and night, — Sadi, the Persian poet, shows Most humorously. The story goes — So […]