A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period
As some fond virgin, whom her mother’s care
Drags from the town to wholesome country air,
Just when she learns to roll a melting eye,
And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh;
From the dear man unwilling she must sever,
Yet takes one kiss before she parts for ever:
Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew,
Saw others happy, and with sighs withdrew;
Not that their pleasures caused her discontent,
She sigh’d not that they staid, but that she went.
She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashion’d halls, dull aunts, and croaking rooks:
She went from opera, park, assembly, play,
To morning-walks, and prayers three hours a-day:
To part her time ‘twixt reading and bohea,
To muse, and spill her solitary tea;
Or o’er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,
Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon;
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire,
Hum half a tune, tell stories to the ‘squire;
Up to her godly garret after seven,
There starve and pray, for that’s the way to heaven.
Some ‘squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack;
Whose game is whist, whose treat, a toast in sack;
Who visits with a gun, presents you birds,
Then gives a smacking buss, and cries–No words!
Or with his hound comes hallooing from the stable,
Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table;
Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests are coarse,
And loves you best of all things–but his horse.
In some fair evening, on your elbow laid,
You dream of triumphs in the rural shade;
In pensive thought recall the fancied scene,
See coronations rise on every green;
Before you pass the imaginary sights
Of lords, and earls, and dukes, and garter’d knights,
While the spread fan o’ershades your closing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.
Thus vanish sceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls!
So when your slave, at some dear idle time,
(Not plagued with headaches, or the want of rhyme)
Stands in the streets, abstracted from the crew,
And while he seems to study, thinks of you;
Just when his fancy paints your sprightly eyes,
Or sees the blush of soft Parthenia rise,
Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite,
Streets, chairs, and coxcombs rush upon my sight;
Vex’d to be still in town, I knit my brow,
Look sour, and hum a tune, as you do now.
A few random poems:
- A Grace before Dinner by Robert Burns
- Алексей Толстой – Стасюлевич и Маркевич
- Shakespeare by Vachel Lindsay
- The Rose by Sara Teasdale
- Владимир Маяковский – Не предаваясь “большевистским бредням” (Красный перец)
- On Twitter
- Федор Сологуб – Во внутреннем дворе отеля
- Николай Гумилев – Канцона (Лучшая музыка в мире)
- about emptiness… by Marina Cecilia Kohon
- К той, что названа Кариной
- Sonnet 20: A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted by William Shakespeare
- Civil War East Coast United States North America 1860 64
- Федор Сологуб – Тень решётки прочной
- Paradox by Willa Cather
- A New Song to an Old Tune by William Ernest Henley
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Английская поэзия. Редьярд Киплинг. «Расходы и поступления». (1919-1926). 9. Джейн выходит замуж. Rudyard Kipling. «Debits and Credits». (1919-1926). 9. Jane’s Marriage
- Английская поэзия. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 139. Оправдывать меня не принуждай. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 139. o call not me to justify the wrong
- Английская поэзия. Перси Биши Шелли. К Мэри Шелли. Percy Bysshe Shelley. To Mary Shelley
- Английская поэзия. Айзек Розенберг. Дочери войны. Isaac Rosenberg. Daughters of War
- Английская поэзия. Перси Биши Шелли. Тень Ада. Percy Bysshe Shelley. Satan Broken Loose
- Английская поэзия. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 1. Убытки поровну. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 1. «Equality of Sacrifice»
- Lament For The Makers By William Dunbar
- Done is a battle by William Dunbar
- Robert Burns: Inscription To Miss Jessy Lewars: On a copy of the Scots Musical Museum, in four volumes, presented to her by Burns.
- Robert Burns: O Wert Thou In The Cauld Blast:
- Robert Burns: A Health To Ane I Loe Dear:
- Robert Burns: O Lay Thy Loof In Mine, Lass:
- Robert Burns: Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars: On Her Recovery
- Robert Burns: Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars: Jessie’s illness
- Robert Burns: Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars: The Menagerie
- Robert Burns: Complimentary Versicles To Jessie Lewars: The Toast
- Robert Burns: The Trogger.: Heron Election Ballad, No. IV.
- Robert Burns: A Lass Wi’ A Tocher:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To Colonel De Peyster:
- Robert Burns: The Dean Of Faculty: A New Ballad
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744) was a a post-Restoration English poet and satirist. He is a poet of the (British) Augustan period and one of its greatest artistic exponents.