English Poetry. Katharine Tynan. Haymaking. Кэтрин Тайнен.
Katharine Tynan (Кэтрин Тайнен) Haymaking Aye, sure, it does always be rainin’ An’ the hay lyin’ out in the wet, But what’s the good o’ complainin’? It never made things better yet! There’ll be musty hay in the manger, The cow’s goin’ dry, be mischance, And the boy […]
English Poetry. Katharine Tynan. Dead – A Prisoner. Кэтрин Тайнен.
Katharine Tynan (Кэтрин Тайнен) Dead – A Prisoner He died the loneliest death of all, Amid his foes he died. But Someone’s leaped the outer wall And Someone’s come inside, And he has gotten a golden key To set the lonesome prisoner free. It was not Peter […]
English Poetry. Katharine Tynan. A Birth-Night Song. Кэтрин Тайнен.
Katharine Tynan (Кэтрин Тайнен) A Birth-Night Song The Child is rocked on Mary’s knee, Cold in the stall this bitter night, And ‘Lullalay-loo,’ soft singeth she, ‘My little Boy and Heaven’s Delight!’ When singing stars went up the sky The Prince of Peace oped a sweet eye. […]
English Poetry. Percy Bysshe Shelley. The Magnetic Lady to Her Patient. Перси Биши Шелли. Магнетизируя больного
Percy Bysshe Shelley (Перси Биши Шелли) The Magnetic Lady to Her Patient I. ‘Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain; My hand is on thy brow, My spirit on thy brain; My pity on thy heart, poor friend; And from my fingers flow The powers of life, and […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 41. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 41. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye LESBIA hath a beaming eye, But no one knows for whom it beameth; Right and left its arrows fly, But what they aim at no one dreameth. Sweeter ’tis to gaze upon My Nora’s lid […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 36. It Is Not the Tear at This Moment Shed. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 36. It Is Not the Tear at This Moment Shed IT is not the tear at this moment shed, When the cold turf has just been laid o’er him, That can tell how beloved was the friend that’s fled, Or how […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 113. Alone in Crowds to Wander On. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 113. Alone in Crowds to Wander On ALONE in crowds to wander on, And feel that all the charm is gone Which voices dear and eyes beloved Shed round us once, where’er we roved — This, this the doom must be […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 89. Drink of This Cup. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 89. Drink of This Cup DRINK of this cup; — you’ll find there’s a spell in Its every drop ’gainst the ills of mortality; Talk of the cordial that sparkled for Helen; Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality. […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 81. If Thou’lt Be Mine. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 81. «Молю, о дева, будь моей…»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 81. If Thou’lt Be Mine If thou’lt be mine, the treasures of air, Of earth, and sea, shall lie at thy feet; Whatever in Fancy’s eye looks fair, Or in Hope’s sweet music sounds most sweet, Shall be ours – if […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. Life in the West. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) Life in the West Ho! brothers—come hither and list to my story— Merry and brief will the narrative be. Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glory— Master am I, boys, of all that I see! Where once frowned a forest, […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. Thy Will Be Done. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) Thy Will Be Done Searcher of Hearts!—from mine erase All thoughts that should not be, And in its deep recesses trace My gratitude to Thee! Hearer of Prayer!—oh, guide aright Each word and deed of mine; Life’s battle teach me how […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. The Chieftain’s Daughter. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) The Chieftain’s Daughter Upon the barren sand A single captive stood; Around him came, with bow and brand, The red-men of the wood. Like him of old, his doom he hears, Rock-bound on ocean’s rim: The chieftain’s daughter knelt in tears, And […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. The Sword and the Staff. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) The Sword and the Staff The sword of the hero! The staff of the sage! Whose valor and wisdom Are stamped on the age! Time-hallowed mementos Of those who have riven The sceptre from tyrants, “The lightning from heaven!” This weapon, […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. Oh, Would That She Were Here!. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) Oh, Would That She Were Here! Oh, would that she were here, These hills and dales among, Where vocal groves are gayly mocked By Echo’s airy tongue: Where jocund nature smiles In all her boon attire, And roams the deeply-tangled wilds Of […]
English Poetry. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 131. Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 131. Ты прихоти полна и любишь власть
William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир) Sonnet 131. Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. Yet […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. I’m with You Once Again. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) * * * I’m with you once again, my friends, No more my footsteps roam; Where it began my journey ends, Amid the scenes of home. No other clime has skies so blue, Or streams so broad and clear, And where are […]
English Poetry. George Pope Morris. The Dream of Love. Джордж Поуп Моррис.
George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис) The Dream of Love I’ve had the heart-ache many times, At the mere mention of a name I’ve never woven in my rhymes, Though from it inspiration came. It is in truth a holy thing, Life-cherished from the world apart— A dove […]
English Poetry. Dora Sigerson Shorter. Vale. Дора Сигерсон Шортер.
Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер) Vale Good-bye, sweet friend, good-bye, And all the world must be Between my friend and me; And nothing is, dear heart, But hands that meet to part; Good-bye, sweet friend, good-bye. Good-bye, sweet love, good-bye, And one long grave must be […]
English Poetry. Dora Sigerson Shorter. The Blow Returned. Дора Сигерсон Шортер.
Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер) The Blow Returned I struck you once, I do remember well. Hard on the track of passion sorrow sped, And swift repentance, weeping for the blow; I struck you once—and now you’re lying dead! Now you are gone the blow no […]
English Poetry. Dora Sigerson Shorter. For Ever. Дора Сигерсон Шортер.
Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер) For Ever He heard it first upon the lips of love, And loved it for love’s sake; A faithful word, that knows nor time nor change, Nor lone heart-break. It sung across his heart-strings like a breath Of Heaven’s faithfulness, that […]
English Poetry. Dora Sigerson Shorter. With a Rose. Дора Сигерсон Шортер.
Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер) With a Rose In the heart of a rose Lies the heart of a maid; If you be not afraid You will wear it. Who knows? In the pink of its bloom, Lay your lips to her cheek; Since a rose […]
English Poetry. Dora Sigerson Shorter. The Scallop Shell. Дора Сигерсон Шортер.
Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер) The Scallop Shell A scallop shell, loosed by the lifting tide, Had left a friendly shore, the seas to brave; Its lips of pink and snowy hollow shone Pure in the sun, a pearl upon the wave. It gleamed and passed—you […]
English Poetry. Dora Sigerson Shorter. An Eclipse. Дора Сигерсон Шортер.
Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер) An Eclipse Let there be an end And all be done; Pass over, fair eclipse, That hides the sun. Dear face that shades the light And shadows me, Begone, and give me peace, And set me free. Dora Sigerson Shorter’s other […]
English Poetry. Paul Laurence Dunbar. The Master-Player. Пол Лоренс Данбар.
Paul Laurence Dunbar (Пол Лоренс Данбар) The Master-Player An old, worn harp that had been played Till all its strings were loose and frayed, Joy, Hate, and Fear, each one essayed, To play. But each in turn had found No sweet responsiveness of sound. Then Love the […]
English Poetry. Paul Laurence Dunbar. The Corn-Stalk Fiddle. Пол Лоренс Данбар.
Paul Laurence Dunbar (Пол Лоренс Данбар) The Corn-Stalk Fiddle When the corn ‘s all cut and the bright stalks shine Like the burnished spears of a field of gold; When the field-mice rich on the nubbins dine, And the frost comes white and the wind blows cold; Then […]
English Poetry. Abraham Cowley. The Spring. Абрахам Каули.
Abraham Cowley (Абрахам Каули) The Spring THOUGH you be absent here, I needs must say The Trees as beauteous are, and flowers as gay, As ever they were wont to be; Nay the Birds rural musick too Is as melodious and free, As if they sung to pleasure […]
English Poetry. Paul Laurence Dunbar. Ode to Ethiopia. Пол Лоренс Данбар.
Paul Laurence Dunbar (Пол Лоренс Данбар) Ode to Ethiopia O Mother Race! to thee I bring This pledge of faith unwavering, This tribute to thy glory. I know the pangs which thou didst feel, When Slavery crushed thee with its heel, With thy dear blood all gory. […]
English Poetry. Paul Laurence Dunbar. An Ante-Bellum Sermon. Пол Лоренс Данбар.
Paul Laurence Dunbar (Пол Лоренс Данбар) An Ante-Bellum Sermon We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, In dis howlin’ wildaness, Fu’ to speak some words of comfo’t To each othah in distress. An’ we chooses fu’ ouah subjic’ Dis–we’ll ‘splain it by an’ by; “An’ de Lawd said, ‘Moses, […]
English Poetry. Paul Laurence Dunbar. Song (My heart to thy heart). Пол Лоренс Данбар.
Paul Laurence Dunbar (Пол Лоренс Данбар) Song (My heart to thy heart) My heart to thy heart, My hand to thine; My lip to thy lips, Kisses are wine Brewed for the lover in sunshine and shade; Let me drink deep, then, my African maid. Lily to […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 100. Fairest! Put on a While. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 100. «Эрин, родная страна!..»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 100. Fairest! Put on a While Fairest! put on awhile These pinions of light I bring thee, And o’er thy own green isle In fancy let me wing thee. Never did Ariel’s plume, At golden sunset hover O’er scenes so full […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 94. Oh, Banquet Not. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 94. Oh, Banquet Not OH, banquet not in those shining bowers, Where Youth resorts, but come to me, For mine’s a garden of faded flowers, More fit for sorrow, for age, and thee. And there we shall have our feast of […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 120. Oh, Could We Do with This World of Ours. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 120. Oh, Could We Do with This World of Ours OH, could we do with this world of ours As thou dost with thy garden bowers, Reject the weeds and keep the flowers, What a heaven on earth we’d make it! […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 63. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 63. Приди, я заплачу с тобой!
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 63. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded HAS sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o’er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 57. Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 57. Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own OH! had we some bright little isle of our own, In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone, Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers, And […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret WHAT the bee is to the flowert, He. — When he looks for honey-dew, Through the leaves that close embower it, That, my love, I’ll be to you. What the bank, with verdure […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 17. How Oft Has the Benshee Cried. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 17. How Oft Has the Benshee Cried HOW oft has the Benshee cried, How oft has death untied Bright links that Glory wove, Sweet bonds entwined by Love. Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth; Rest to each faithful eye that […]
English Poetry. Abraham Cowley. Not Fair. Абрахам Каули.
Abraham Cowley (Абрахам Каули) Not Fair ‘T IS very true, I thought you once as fair As women in th’ idea are;* Whatever here seems beauteous, seem’d to be But a faint metaphor of thee: But then, methoughts, there something shin’d within, Which casts this lustre o’er thy […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 11. As a Beam O’er the Face of the Waters May Glow. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 11. As a Beam O’er the Face of the Waters May Glow AS a beam o’er the face of the waters may glow While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 4. Oh! Breathe Not His Name. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 4. На могиле героя
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 4. Oh! Breathe Not His Name OH! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour’d his relics are laid: Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 1. Go Where Glory Waits Thee. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 1. Go Where Glory Waits Thee Go where glory waits thee, But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me. When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is sweetest, Oh! then remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer friends […]