English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas An’ zoo you didden come athirt, To have zome fun last night: how wer’t? Vor we’d a-work’d wi’ all our might To scour the iron things up bright, An’ brush’d an’ scrubb’d the house all drough; An’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead If I had all the land my zight Can overlook vrom Chalwell hill, Vrom Sherborn left to Blanvord right, Why I could be but happy still. An’ I be happy wi’ my spot O’ freehold ground an’ mossy […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Riddles. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Riddles Anne an’ Joey a-ta’ken. A. A plague! theäse cow wont stand a bit, Noo sooner do she zee me zit Ageän her, than she’s in a trot, A-runnèn to zome other spot. J. Why ’tis the dog do sceäre […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 62. «С подругою – в море!»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea Come o’er the sea, Maiden! With me, Mine thro’ sunshine, storm, and snows; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where’er it goes. Let fate frown on, so we love and part not; […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. An Argument. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) An Argument I’ve oft been told by learned friars, That wishing and the crime are one, And Heaven punishes desires As much as if the deed were done. If wishing damns us, you and I Are damned to all our heart’s content; Come, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 38. Love’s Young Dream. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 38. Сон юной любви
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 38. Love’s Young Dream OH! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart’s chain wove; When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come, Of milder calmer beam, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 12. The Meeting of the Waters. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 12. The Meeting of the Waters There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Madman’s Song. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Madman’s Song Better to see your cheek grown hollow, Better to see your temple worn, Than to forget to follow, follow, After the sound of a silver horn. Better to bind your brow with willow And follow, follow […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Les Lauriers Sont Coupée. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Les Lauriers Sont Coupée Ah, love, within the shadow of the wood The laurels are cut down; some other brows May bear the classic wreath which Fame allows And find the burden honorable and good. Have we not passed the […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Escape. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Escape When foxes eat the last gold grape, And the last white antelope is killed, I shall stop fighting and escape Into a little house I’ll build. But first I’ll shrink to fairy size, With a whisper no […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Cold-Blooded Creatures. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Cold-Blooded Creatures Man, the egregious egoist (In mystery the twig is bent) Imagines, by some mental twist, That he alone is sentient Of the intolerable load That on all living creatures lies, Nor stoops to pity in the toad The speechless sorrow […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Beauty. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Beauty Say not of beauty she is good, Or aught but beautiful, Or sleek to doves’ wings of the wood Her wild wings of a gull. Call her not wicked; that word’s touch Consumes her like a curse; […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. August. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) August Why should this Negro insolently stride Down the red noonday on such noiseless feet? Piled in his barrow, tawnier than wheat, Lie heaps of smouldering daisies, sombre-eyed, Their copper petals shriveled up with pride, Hot with a […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. A Proud Lady. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) A Proud Lady Hate in the world’s hand Can carve and set its seal Like the strong blast of sand Which cuts into steel. I have seen how the finger of hate Can mar and mould Faces burned […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 29. While Gazing on the Moon’s Light. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 29. While Gazing on the Moon’s Light WHILE gazing on the moon’s light, A moment from her smile I turn’d, To look at orbs that, more bright, In lone and distant glory burn’d. But too far Each proud star, For me […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Fire and Sleet and Candlelight. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Fire and Sleet and Candlelight For this you’ve striven Daring, to fail: Your sky is riven Like a tearing veil. For this, you’ve wasted Wings of your youth; Divined, and tasted Bitter springs of truth. From sand unslakèd Twisted strong cords, And […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Zittèn out the Wold Year. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Zittèn out the Wold Year Why, raïn or sheen, or blow or snow, I zaid, if I could stand so’s, I’d come, vor all a friend or foe, To sheäke ye by the hand, so’s; An’ spend, wi’ kinsvo’k near an’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas An’ zoo you didden come athirt, To have zome fun last night: how wer’t? Vor we’d a-work’d wi’ all our might To scour the iron things up bright, An’ brush’d an’ scrubb’d the house all drough; An’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead If I had all the land my zight Can overlook vrom Chalwell hill, Vrom Sherborn left to Blanvord right, Why I could be but happy still. An’ I be happy wi’ my spot O’ freehold ground an’ mossy […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Riddles. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Riddles Anne an’ Joey a-ta’ken. A. A plague! theäse cow wont stand a bit, Noo sooner do she zee me zit Ageän her, than she’s in a trot, A-runnèn to zome other spot. J. Why ’tis the dog do sceäre […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. The New Decalogue. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) The New Decalogue Have but one God: thy knees were sore If bent in prayer to three or four. Adore no images save those The coinage of thy country shows. Take not the Name in vain. Direct Thy swearing unto […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. A Wreath of Immortelles. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) A Wreath of Immortelles Judge Sawyer, whom in vain the people tried To push from power, here is laid aside. Death only from the bench could ever start The sluggish load of his immortal part. ________ For those this mausoleum […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. With a Book. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) With a Book Words shouting, singing, smiling, frowning– Sense lacking. Ah, nothing, more obscure than Browning, Save blacking. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce’s other poems: To the Bartholdi Statue Decalogue Rimer The New Decalogue A Wreath of Immortelles 901 To […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. Rimer. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) Rimer The rimer quenches his unheeded fires, The sound surceases and the sense expires. Then the domestic dog, to east and west, Expounds the passions burning in his breast. The rising moon o’er that enchanted land Pauses to hear and yearns to […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. Decalogue. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) Decalogue Thou shalt no God but me adore: ‘Twere too expensive to have more. No images nor idols make For Roger Ingersoll to break. Take not God’s name in vain: select A time when it will have effect. Work […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 62. «С подругою – в море!»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea Come o’er the sea, Maiden! With me, Mine thro’ sunshine, storm, and snows; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where’er it goes. Let fate frown on, so we love and part not; […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Good Samaritan. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Good Samaritan He comes from out the ages dim— The good Samaritan; I somehow never pictured him A fat and jolly man; But one who’d little joy to glean, And little coin to give— A sad-faced man, and lank and lean, Who found […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Ballad of the Elder Son. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Ballad of the Elder Son A son of elder sons I am, Whose boyhood days were cramped and scant, Through ages of domestic sham And family lies and family cant. Come, elder brothers mine, and bring Dull loads of care that you have […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Outside Track. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Outside Track There were ten of us there on the moonlit quay, And one on the for’ard hatch; No straighter mate to his mates than he Had ever said: ‘Len’s a match!’ “’Twill be long, old man, ere our glasses clink, ’Twill be […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. A Mate Can Do No Wrong. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) A Mate Can Do No Wrong We learnt the creed at Hungerford, We learnt the creed at Bourke; We learnt it in the good times And learnt it out of work. We learnt it by the harbour-side And on the billabong: “No matter what […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Water Lily. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Water Lily A lonely young wife In her dreaming discerns A lily-decked pool With a border of ferns, And a beautiful child, With butterfly wings, Trips down to the edge of the water and sings: ‘Come, mamma! come! ‘Quick! follow me— ‘Step out […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. Above Eurunderee. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) Above Eurunderee There are scenes in the distance where beauty is not, On the desolate flats where gaunt appletrees rot. Where the brooding old ridge rises up to the breeze From his dark lonely gullies of stringy-bark trees, There are voice-haunted gaps, ever […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Great Grey Plain. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Great Grey Plain Out West, where the stars are brightest, Where the scorching north wind blows, And the bones of the dead gleam whitest, And the sun on a desert glows — Yet within the selfish kingdom […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. Trooper Campbell. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) Trooper Campbell One day old Trooper Campbell Rode out to Blackman’s Run, His cap-peak and his sabre Were glancing in the sun. ’Twas New Year’s Eve, and slowly Across the ridges low The sad Old Year was […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. Sweeney. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) Sweeney It was somewhere in September, and the sun was going down, When I came, in search of `copy’, to a Darling-River town; `Come-and-have-a-drink’ we’ll call it — ’tis a fitting name, I think — And ’twas raining, for a […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Song of the Darling River. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Song of the Darling River The skies are brass and the plains are bare, Death and ruin are everywhere — And all that is left of the last year’s flood Is a sickly stream on the grey-black mud; […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. An Argument. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) An Argument I’ve oft been told by learned friars, That wishing and the crime are one, And Heaven punishes desires As much as if the deed were done. If wishing damns us, you and I Are damned to all our heart’s content; Come, […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. Said Grenfell to my Spirit. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) Said Grenfell to my Spirit Said Grenfell to my spirit, ”You’ve been writing very free Of the charms of other places, and you don’t remember me. You have claimed another native place and think it’s Nature’s law, Since you never […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. The Dons of Spain. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) The Dons of Spain The Eagle screams at the beck of trade, so Spain, as the world goes round, Must wrestle the right to live or die from the sons of the land she found; For, as in the days when […]
English Poetry. Henry Lawson. Peter Anderson and Co.. Генри Лоусон.
Henry Lawson (Генри Лоусон) Peter Anderson and Co. He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.’, But his real name was Careless, as the fellows understood — And his relatives decided that he […]