English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Shaftesbury Feäir. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Shaftesbury Feäir When hillborne Paladore did show So bright to me down miles below, As woonce the zun, a-rollèn west, Did brighten up his hill’s high breast. Wi’ walls a-lookèn dazzlèn white, Or yollow, on the grey-topp’d height Of Paladore, as peäle […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Wife a-lost. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Wife a-lost Since I noo mwore do zee your feäce, Up steäirs or down below, I’ll zit me in the lwonesome pleäce, Where flat-bough’d beech do grow: Below the beeches’ bough, my love. Where you did never come, An’ I don’t […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. A Wife a-praïs’d. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. A Wife a-praïs’d ’Twer Maÿ, but ev’ry leaf wer dry All day below a sheenèn sky; The zun did glow wi’ yollow gleäre, An’ cowslips blow wi’ yollow gleäre, Wi’ grægles’ bells a-droopèn low, An’ bremble boughs a-stoopèn low; While culvers in […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Married Peäir’s Love-walk. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Married Peäir’s Love-walk Come let’s goo down the grove to-night; The moon is up, ’tis all so light As day, an’ win’ do blow enough To sheäke the leaves, but tiddèn rough. Come, Esther, teäke, vor wold time’s seäke, Your hooded cloke, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Chatterton. Songe to Aella, Lorde of the Castel of Brystowe Ynne Daies of Yore. Томас Чаттертон.
Thomas Chatterton (Томас Чаттертон) Songe to Aella, Lorde of the Castel of Brystowe Ynne Daies of Yore To JOHNE LADGATE. WELL thanne, goode Johne, sythe ytt must needes be soe, Thatt thou & I a bowtynge matche must have, Lette ytt ne breakynge of oulde friendshyppe bee, […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Bachelor. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Bachelor No! I don’t begrudge en his life, Nor his goold, nor his housen, nor lands; Teäke all o’t, an’ gi’e me my wife, A wife’s be the cheapest ov hands. Lie alwone! sigh alwone! die alwone! Then be vorgot. No! […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. False Friends-like. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. False Friends-like When I wer still a bwoy, an’ mother’s pride, A bigger bwoy spoke up to me so kind-like, “If you do like, I’ll treat ye wi’ a ride In theäse wheel-barrow here.” Zoo I wer blind-like To what he had […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Ivy Hall. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Ivy Hall If I’ve a-stream’d below a storm, An’ not a-velt the raïn, An’ if I ever velt me warm, In snow upon the plaïn, ’Twer when, as evenèn skies wer dim, An’ vields below my eyes wer dim, I went alwone […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Fifehead. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Fifehead ’Twer where my fondest thoughts do light, At Fifehead, while we spent the night; The millwheel’s restèn rim wer dry, An’ houn’s held up their evenèn cry; An’ lofty, drough the midnight sky, Above the vo’k, wi’ heavy heads, Asleep upon […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Wold Friends a-met. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Wold Friends a-met Aye, vull my heart’s blood now do roll, An’ gaÿ do rise my happy soul, An’ well they mid, vor here our veet Avore woone vier ageän do meet; Vor you’ve avoun’ my feäce, to greet Wi’ welcome words […]
English Poetry. Patrick Brontë. Epistle to the Rev. J— B—, Whilst Journeying for the Recovery of His Health. Патрик Бронте.
Patrick Brontë (Патрик Бронте) Epistle to the Rev. J— B—, Whilst Journeying for the Recovery of His Health When warm’d with zeal, my rustic Muse Feels fluttering fain to tell her news, And paint her simple, lowly views With all her art, And, though in genius but obtuse, […]
English Poetry. Patrick Brontë. To the Rev. J. Gilpin, on His Improved Edition of the ”Pilgrim’S Progress”. Патрик Бронте.
Patrick Brontë (Патрик Бронте) To the Rev. J. Gilpin, on His Improved Edition of the ”Pilgrim’S Progress” When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait, First reached my ear, his doubtful fate With dread suspense my mind […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. What the Bullet Sang. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) What the Bullet Sang O joy of creation To be! O rapture to fly And be free! Be the battle lost or won, Though its smoke shall hide the sun, I shall find my love,–the one Born for me! I shall […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Half an Hour before Supper. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Half an Hour before Supper “So she’s here, your unknown Dulcinea, the lady you met on the train, And you really believe she would know you if you were to meet her again?” “Of course,” he replied, “she would know me; […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Telemachus Versus Mentor. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Telemachus Versus Mentor Don’t mind me, I beg you, old fellow,–I’ll do very well here alone; You must not be kept from your “German” because I’ve dropped in like a stone. Leave all ceremony behind you, leave all thought of aught but […]
English Poetry. Thomas Chatterton. On the Last Epiphany (Or Christ Coming to Judgment). Томас Чаттертон.
Thomas Chatterton (Томас Чаттертон) On the Last Epiphany (Or Christ Coming to Judgment) Behold! just coming from above, The judge, with majesty and love! The sky divides, and rolls away, T’admit him through the realms of day! The sun, astonished, hides its face, The moon and stars with […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Old Camp-Fire. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Old Camp-Fire Now shift the blanket pad before your saddle back you fling, And draw your cinch up tighter till the sweat drops from the ring: We’ve a dozen miles to cover ere we reach the next divide. Our limbs […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Address. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Address (OPENING OF THE CALIFORNIA THEATRE, SAN FRANCISCO, JANUARY 19, 1870) Brief words, when actions wait, are well: The prompter’s hand is on his bell; The coming heroes, lovers, kings, Are idly lounging at the wings; Behind the curtain’s mystic […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Two Ships. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Two Ships As I stand by the cross on the lone mountain’s crest, Looking over the ultimate sea, In the gloom of the mountain a ship lies at rest, And one sails away from the lea: One spreads its white […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Lone Mountain. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Lone Mountain (CEMETERY, SAN FRANCISCO) This is that hill of awe That Persian Sindbad saw,– The mount magnetic; And on its seaward face, Scattered along its base, The wrecks prophetic. Here come the argosies Blown by each idle breeze, To […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. On a Cone of the Big Trees. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) On a Cone of the Big Trees (SEQUOIA GIGANTEA) Brown foundling of the Western wood, Babe of primeval wildernesses! Long on my table thou hast stood Encounters strange and rude caresses; Perchance contented with thy lot, Surroundings new, and curious faces, […]
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 […]