English Poetry. Nicholas Breton. A Pastoral (SWEET birds! that sit and sing among the shady valleys). Николас Бретон.
Nicholas Breton (Николас Бретон) A Pastoral (SWEET birds! that sit and sing among the shady valleys) SWEET birds! that sit and sing among the shady valleys, And see how sweetly Phyllis walks amid her garden alleys, Go round about her bower, and sing as ye are bidden: […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. A Thanksgiving. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) A Thanksgiving From brief delights that rise to me Out of unfathomable dole, I thank whatever gods there be For mine unconquerable soul. In the strong clutch of Circumstance It has not winced, nor groaned aloud. Before the blows of eyeless chance […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. St. Thomas. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) St. Thomas (A GEOGRAPHICAL SURVEY, 1868) Very fair and full of promise Lay the island of St. Thomas: Ocean o’er its reefs and bars Hid its elemental scars; Groves of cocoanut and guava Grew above its fields of lava. So the […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. An Arctic Vision. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) An Arctic Vision Where the short-legged Esquimaux Waddle in the ice and snow, And the playful Polar bear Nips the hunter unaware; Where by day they track the ermine, And by night another vermin,– Segment of the frigid zone, Where the […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Miss Blanche Says. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Miss Blanche Says And you are the poet, and so you want Something–what is it?–a theme, a fancy? Something or other the Muse won’t grant To your old poetical necromancy; Why, one half you poets–you can’t deny– Don’t know the Muse […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Poem. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Poem DELIVERED ON THE FOURTEENTH ANNIVERSARY OF CALIFORNIA’S ADMISSION INTO THE UNION, SEPTEMBER 9, 1864 We meet in peace, though from our native East The sun that sparkles on our birthday feast Glanced as he rose on fields whose […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Caldwell of Springfield. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Caldwell of Springfield (NEW JERSEY, 1780) Here’s the spot. Look around you. Above on the height Lay the Hessians encamped. By that church on the right Stood the gaunt Jersey farmers. And here ran a wall,– You may dig anywhere and […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Idyl of Battle Hollow. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Idyl of Battle Hollow (WAR OF THE REBELLION, 1884) No, I won’t,–thar, now, so! And it ain’t nothin’,–no! And thar’s nary to tell that you folks yer don’t know; And it’s ”Belle, tell us, do!” and it’s ”Belle, is it […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. California’s Greeting to Seward. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) California’s Greeting to Seward (1869) We know him well: no need of praise Or bonfire from the windy hill To light to softer paths and ways The world-worn man we honor still. No need to quote the truths he spoke […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Old Major Explains. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Old Major Explains (RE-UNION, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, 12TH MAY, 1871) Well, you see, the fact is, Colonel, I don’t know as I can come: For the farm is not half planted, and there’s work to do at home; And […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. A Sanitary Message. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) A Sanitary Message Last night, above the whistling wind, I heard the welcome rain,– A fusillade upon the roof, A tattoo on the pane: The keyhole piped; the chimney-top A warlike trumpet blew; Yet, mingling with these sounds of strife, A […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Copperhead. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Copperhead (1864) There is peace in the swamp where the Copperhead sleeps, Where the waters are stagnant, the white vapor creeps, Where the musk of Magnolia hangs thick in the air, And the lilies’ phylacteries broaden in prayer. There is […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Rhymes and Rhythms. 24. Not to the Staring Day. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Rhymes and Rhythms. 24. Not to the Staring Day To A. C. Not to the staring Day, For all the importunate questionings he pursues In his big, violent voice, Shall those mild things of bulk and multitude, The Trees–God’s sentinels Over […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. On a Pen of Thomas Starr King. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) On a Pen of Thomas Starr King This is the reed the dead musician dropped, With tuneful magic in its sheath still hidden; The prompt allegro of its music stopped, Its melodies unbidden. But who shall finish the unfinished strain, […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Relieving Guard. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Relieving Guard THOMAS STARR KING. OBIIT MARCH 4, 1864 Came the relief. ”What, sentry, ho! How passed the night through thy long waking?” ”Cold, cheerless, dark,–as may befit The hour before the dawn is breaking.” ”No sight? no sound?” ”No; […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. ”How Are You, Sanitary?”. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) ”How Are You, Sanitary?” Down the picket-guarded lane Rolled the comfort-laden wain, Cheered by shouts that shook the plain, Soldier-like and merry: Phrases such as camps may teach, Sabre-cuts of Saxon speech, Such as ”Bully!” ”Them’s the peach!” ”Wade in, Sanitary!” […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Her Letter. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Her Letter I’m sitting alone by the fire, Dressed just as I came from the dance, In a robe even YOU would admire,— It cost a cool thousand in France; I’m be-diamonded out of all reason, My hair is done up in […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Miracle of Padre Junipero. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Miracle of Padre Junipero This is the tale that the Chronicle Tells of the wonderful miracle Wrought by the pious Padre Serro, The very reverend Junipero. The heathen stood on his ancient mound, Looking over the desert bound Into the […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Our Privilege. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Our Privilege Not ours, where battle smoke upcurls, And battle dews lie wet, To meet the charge that treason hurls By sword and bayonet. Not ours to guide the fatal scythe The fleshless Reaper wields; The harvest moon looks calmly down […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Evenèn Light. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Evenèn Light The while I took my bit o’ rest, Below my house’s eastern sheäde, The things that stood in vield an’ gleäde Wer bright in zunsheen vrom the west. There bright wer east-ward mound an’ wall, An’ bright wer trees, arisèn […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Fancy. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Fancy In stillness we ha’ words to hear, An’ sheäpes to zee in darkest night, An’ tongues a-lost can haïl us near, An’ souls a-gone can smile in zight; When Fancy now do wander back To years a-spent, an’ bring to mind […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. The Wind in the Woone’s Feäce. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. The Wind in the Woone’s Feäce There lovely Jenny past, While the blast did blow On over Ashknowle Hill To the mill below; A-blinkèn quick, wi’ lashes long, Above her cheäks o’ red, Ageän the wind, a-beätèn strong, Upon her droopèn head. […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. The Lew o’ the Rick. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. The Lew o’ the Rick At eventide the wind wer loud By trees an’ tuns above woone’s head, An’ all the sky wer woone dark cloud, Vor all it had noo raïn to shed; An’ as the darkness gather’d thick, I zot […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Echoes. 7. Fill a Glass with Golden Wine. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Echoes. 7. Fill a Glass with Golden Wine Fill a glass with golden wine, And the while your lips are wet Set their perfume unto mine, And forget, Every kiss we take and give Leaves us less of life to live. […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Two an’ Two. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Two an’ Two The zun, O Jessie, while his feäce do rise In vi’ry skies, a-sheddèn out his light On yollow corn a-weävèn down below His yollow glow, is gaÿ avore the zight. By two an’ two, How goodly things do goo, […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. To Me. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. To Me At night, as drough the meäd I took my waÿ, In aïr a-sweeten’d by the new-meäde haÿ, A stream a-vallèn down a rock did sound, Though out o’ zight wer foam an’ stwone to me. Behind the knap, above […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Raïlroad (I took a flight, awhile agoo). Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Raïlroad (I took a flight, awhile agoo) I took a flight, awhile agoo, Along the raïls, a stage or two, An’ while the heavy wheels did spin An’ rottle, wi’ a deafnèn din, In clouds o’ steam, the zweepèn traïn Did […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Leäne. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Leäne They do zay that a travellèn chap Have a-put in the newspeäper now, That the bit o’ green ground on the knap Should be all a-took in vor the plough. He do fancy ’tis easy to show That we can […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Wayfeärèn. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Wayfeärèn The sky wer clear, the zunsheen glow’d On droopèn flowers drough the day, As I did beät the dousty road Vrom hinder hills, a-feädèn gray; Drough hollows up the hills, Vrom knaps along by mills, Vrom mills by churches tow’rs, wi’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Stage Coach. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Stage Coach Ah! when the wold vo’k went abroad They thought it vast enough, If vow’r good ho’ses beät the road Avore the coach’s ruf; An’ there they zot, A-cwold or hot, An’ roll’d along the ground, While the whip did […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Ramon. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Ramon (REFUGIO MINE, NORTHERN MEXICO) Drunk and senseless in his place, Prone and sprawling on his face, More like brute than any man Alive or dead, By his great pump out of gear, Lay the peon engineer, Waking only just to […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Goddess. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Goddess CONTRIBUTED TO THE FAIR FOR THE LADIES’ PATRIOTIC FUND OF THE PACIFIC “Who comes?” The sentry’s warning cry Rings sharply on the evening air: Who comes? The challenge: no reply, Yet something motions there. A woman, […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. North Beach. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) North Beach (AFTER SPENSER) Lo! where the castle of bold Pfeiffer throws Its sullen shadow on the rolling tide,— No more the home where joy and wealth repose, But now where wassailers in cells abide; See yon long quay that stretches […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. What the Wolf Really Said to Little Red Riding-Hood. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) What the Wolf Really Said to Little Red Riding-Hood Wondering maiden, so puzzled and fair, Why dost thou murmur and ponder and stare? “Why are my eyelids so open and wild?” Only the better to see with, my child! Only the better […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Croquis. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Croquis To G. W. The beach was crowded. Pausing now and then, He groped and fiddled doggedly along, His worn face glaring on the thoughtless throng The stony peevishness of sightless men. He seemed scarce older than his clothes. Again, Grotesquing […]
English Poetry. George Gordon Byron. The Conquest. Джордж Гордон Байрон. Победа
George Gordon Byron (Джордж Гордон Байрон) The Conquest The Son of Love and Lord of War I sing; Him who bade England bow to Normandy And left the name of conqueror more than king To his unconquerable dynasty. Not fann’d alone by Victory’s fleeting wing, He rear’d […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Dolly Varden. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Dolly Varden Dear Dolly! who does not recall The thrilling page that pictured all Those charms that held our sense in thrall Just as the artist caught her,— As down that English lane she tripped, In bowered chintz, hat sideways tipped, Trim-bodiced, […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Grandmother Tenterden. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Grandmother Tenterden (MASSACHUSETTS SHORE, 1800) I mind it was but yesterday: The sun was dim, the air was chill; Below the town, below the hill, The sails of my son’s ship did fill,— My Jacob, who was cast away. He […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. Alnaschar. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) Alnaschar Here’s yer toy balloons! All sizes! Twenty cents for that. It rises Jest as quick as that ‘ere, Miss, Twice as big. Ye see it is Some more fancy. Make it square Fifty for ’em both. That’s fair. That’s the […]
English Poetry. Francis Bret Harte. The Tale of a Pony. Фрэнсис Брет Гарт.
Francis Bret Harte (Фрэнсис Брет Гарт) The Tale of a Pony Name of my heroine, simply “Rose;” Surname, tolerable only in prose; Habitat, Paris,—that is where She resided for change of air; Aetat twenty; complexion fair; Rich, good looking, and debonnaire; Smarter than Jersey lightning. There! That’s her […]