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:
- Николай Заболоцкий – Гурзуф ночью
- Fate poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Стефан Малларме – Звенящий зимний день
- Василий Казин – Эпоха
- Олег Бундур – А мне-то ничего
- The Visit by Nijole Miliauskaite
- It was a Lover and his Lass by William Shakespeare
- Алексей Николаевич Толстой – Плач
- Paradise Lost: Book 08 poem – John Milton poems
- Goblins Of The Steppes poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Sonnet 19: Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws by William Shakespeare
- Иннокентий Анненский – Леконт де Лиль. Над синим мраком ночи длинной
- Song of the Bowmen of Shu poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Most Memorable Mother’s Day Gift Ideas
- Totem by Sylvia Plath
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
- Robert Burns: Poem On Pastoral Poetry :
- Robert Burns: On Glenriddell’s Fox Breaking His Chain: A Fragment
- Robert Burns: The Posie :
- Robert Burns: What Can A Young Lassie Do Wi’ An Auld Man:
- Robert Burns: The Charms Of Lovely Davies:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On Miss Davies: On being asked why she had been formed so little, and Mrs. A-so big.
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Wee Thing:
- Robert Burns: Craigieburn Wood:
- Robert Burns: Lines Sent To Sir John Whiteford, Bart: With The Lament On The Death Of the Earl Of Glencairn
- Robert Burns: Lament For James, Earl Of Glencairn:
- Robert Burns: The Banks O’ Doon: Third Version
- Robert Burns: The Banks O’ Doon: Second Version
- Robert Burns: The Banks O’ Doon: First Version
- Robert Burns: Out Over The Forth:
- Robert Burns: There’ll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame:
- Robert Burns: Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Approach Of Spring:
- Robert Burns: Elegy On The Late Miss Burnet Of Monboddo :
- Robert Burns: On The Birth Of A Posthumous Child: Born in peculiar circumstances of family distress.
- Robert Burns: Tam O’ Shanter: A Tale
- Robert Burns: Verses On Captain Grose: Written on an Envelope, enclosing a Letter to Him.
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.