English Poetry. Charlotte Brontё. Mementos. Шарлотта Бронте.
Charlotte Brontё (Шарлотта Бронте) Mementos ARRANGING long-locked drawers and shelves Of cabinets, shut up for years, What a strange task we’ve set ourselves ! How still the lonely room appears ! How strange this mass of ancient treasures, Mementos of past pains and pleasures; These volumes, clasped with […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 30. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 30 ’Twas in a mocking dream of night — I fancied I had wings as light As a young bird’s, and flew as fleet; While Love, around whose beauteous feet, I knew not why, hung chains of lead, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 22. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 22 The Phrygian rock, that braves the storm, Was once a weeping matron’s form; And Progne, hapless, frantic maid, Is now a swallow in the shade. Oh! that a mirror’s form were mine, That I might catch that […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 19. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 19 Here recline you, gentle maid, Sweet is this embowering shade; Sweet the young, the modest trees, Ruffled by the kissing breeze; Sweet the little founts that weep, Lulling soft the mind to sleep; Hark! they whisper as […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 15. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 15 Tell me, why, my sweetest dove, Thus your humid pinions move, Shedding through the air in showers Essence of the balmiest flowers? Tell me whither, whence you rove, Tell me, all, my sweetest dove. Curious stranger, I […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 6. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 6 As late I sought the spangled bowers To cull a wreath of matin flowers, Where many an early rose was weeping, I found the urchin Cupid sleeping. I caught the boy, a goblet’s tide Was richly mantling […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 1. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 1 I saw the smiling bard of pleasure, The minstrel of the Teian measure; ’Twas in a vision of the night, He beam’d upon my wondering sight I heard his voice, and warmly prest The dear enthusiast to […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 63. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 63 To Love, the soft and blooming child, I touch the harp in descant wild; To Love, the babe of Cyprian bowers, The boy, who breathes and blushes flowers; To Love, for heaven and earth adore him, And […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 77. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 77 Would that I were a tuneful lyre, Of burnished ivory fair, Which, in the Dionysian choir, Some blooming boy should bear! Would that I were a golden vase. That some bright nymph might hold My spotless […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54 Methinks, the pictured bull we see Is amorous Jove–it must be he! How fondly blest he seems to bear That fairest of Phoenician fair! How proud he breasts the foamy tide, And spurns the billowy surge aside! […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60 Awake to life, my sleeping shell, To Phoebus let thy numbers swell; And though no glorious prize be thine, No Pythian wreath around thee twine, Yet every hour is glory’s hour To him who gathers wisdom’s flower. […]
English Poetry. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 132. Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 132. Люблю твои глаза. Они меня
William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир) Sonnet 132. Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. And truly […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 73. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 73 Awhile I bloomed, a happy flower, Till love approached one fatal hour, And made my tender branches feel The wounds of his avenging steel. Then lost I fell, like some poor willow That falls across the wintry […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. Written in the Blank Leaf of a Lady’s Commonplace Book. Томас Мур. Стихотворение, написанное на чистом листе в записной книжке одной женщины
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) Written in the Blank Leaf of a Lady’s Commonplace Book Here is one leaf reserved for me, From all thy sweet memorials free; And here my simple song might tell The feelings thou must guess so well. But could I thus, within thy mind, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. To Julia Weeping. Томас Мур. Джулии плачущей
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) To Julia Weeping Oh! if your tears are given to care, If real woe disturbs your peace, Come to my bosom, weeping fair! And I will bid your weeping cease. But if with Fancy’s visioned fears, With dreams of woe your bosom thrill; […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. Christmas Night. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) Christmas Night “IF I CANNOT SEE THEE PRESENT I WILL MOURN THEE ABSENT, FOR THIS ALSO IS A PROOF OF LOVE” Thomas à Kempis We do not find Him on the difficult earth, In surging human-kind, In wayside death or accidental birth, […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. To Antiquity. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) To Antiquity “… REVERENCE FOR OUR FATHERS, WITH THEIR STORES OF EXPERIENCES” An author whose name I did not note O our young ancestor, Our boy in Letters, how we trudge oppressed With our “experiences,” and you of yore Flew light, and […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. Surmise. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) Surmise THE TRACK OF A HUMAN MOOD Not wish, nor fear, nor quite expectancy Is that vague spirit Surmise, That wanderer, that wonderer, whom we see Within each other’s eyes; And yet not often. For she flits away, Fitful as infant thought, […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. A Comparison in a Seaside Field. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) A Comparison in a Seaside Field ‘Tis royal and authentic June Over this poor soil blossoming; Here lies, beneath an upright noon, Thin nation for so wild a king. Far off, the noble Summer rules, Violent in the ardent rose, His sun alight […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. To the Mother of Christ the Son of Man. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) To the Mother of Christ the Son of Man We too (one cried), we too, We the unready, the perplexed, the cold, Must shape the Eternal in our thoughts anew, Cherish, possess, enfold. Thou sweetly, we in strife. It is our passion to […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. “Rivers Unknown to Song”. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) “Rivers Unknown to Song” James Thomson Wide waters in the waste; or, out of reach, Rough Alpine falls where late a glacier hung; Or rivers groping for the alien beach, Through continents, unsung. Nay, not these nameless, these remote, alone; But all […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. The English Metres. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) The English Metres The rooted liberty of flowers in breeze Is theirs, by national luck impulsive, terse, Tethered, uncaptured, rules obeyed “at ease,” Time-strengthened laws of verse. Or they are like our seasons that admit Inflexion, not infraction: Autumn hoar, Winter more tender […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Mater Dolorosa. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Mater Dolorosa I’D a dream to-night As I fell asleep, O! the touching sight Makes me still to weep: Of my little lad, Gone to leave me sad, Ay, the child I had, But was not to keep. As in heaven high, I […]
English Poetry. Alice Meynell. To Silence. Элис Мейнелл.
Alice Meynell (Элис Мейнелл) To Silence “SPACE, THE BOUND OF A SOLID”: SILENCE, THEN, THE FORM OF A MELODY Silence, for thine idleness I raise My silence-bounded singing in thy praise, But for thy moulding of my Mozart’s tune, Thy hold upon the bird that sings the […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. That Kiss in the Dark. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) That Kiss in the Dark Recall it you? – Say you do! – When you went out into the night, In an impatience that would not wait, From that lone house in the woodland spot, And when I, thinking you had gone For […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Standing by the Mantelpiece. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Standing by the Mantelpiece (H.M.M., 1873) This candle-wax is shaping to a shroud To-night. (They call it that, as you may know) – By touching it the claimant is avowed, And hence I press it with my finger – so. To-night. […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. He Never Expected Much. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) He Never Expected Much [or] A Consideration [A reflection] on My Eighty-Sixth Birthday Well, World, you have kept faith with me, Kept faith with me; Upon the whole you have proved to be Much as you said you were. Since as a […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Song to Aurore. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Song to Aurore We’ll not begin again to love, It only leads to pain; The fire we now are master of Has seared us not in vain. Any new step of yours I’m fain To hear of from afar, And even in such […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Seeing the Moon Rise. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Seeing the Moon Rise We used to go to Froom-hill Barrow To see the round moon rise Into the heath-rimmed skies, Trudging thither by plough and harrow Up the pathway, steep and narrow, Singing a song. Now we do not go there. Why? […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. We Say We Shall Not Meet. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) * * * We say we shall not meet Again beneath this sky, And turn with leaden feet, Murmuring ‘Good-bye!’ But laugh at how we rued Our former time’s adieu When those who went for good Are met anew. We talk […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. The Belle’s Soliloquy. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) The Belle’s Soliloquy Heigh ho! well, the season’s over! Once again we’ve come to Lent! Programme’s changed from balls and parties– Now we’re ordered to repent. Forty days of self-denial! Tell you what I think it pays– Know’t’l freshen my complexion Going slow […]
English Poetry. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Belief. Элла Уилкокс.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Belief The pain we have to suffer seems so broad, Set side-by-side with this life’s narrow span, We need no greater evidence that God Has some diviner destiny for man. He would not deem it worth His while to send Such crushing […]
English Poetry. Stephen Duck. To the Author of a Poem on the Duke of Lorrain’s Arrival at the British Court. Стивен Дак.
Stephen Duck (Стивен Дак) To the Author of a Poem on the Duke of Lorrain’s Arrival at the British Court IS DENHAM’s nervous Muse reviv’d again, To hail the Regal Visit of LORRAIN? Or is it POPE’s harmonious Voice we hear, Or whose majestic Numbers charm our Ear? […]
English Poetry. Henry Austin Dobson. The Paradox of Time. Генри Остин Добсон.
Henry Austin Dobson (Генри Остин Добсон) The Paradox of Time Time goes, you say? Ah no! Alas, Time stays, we go; Or else, were this not so, What need to chain the hours, For Youth were always ours? Time goes, you say?-ah no! Ours is the eyes’ […]
English Poetry. Stephen Duck. On the Marriage of His Serene Highness the Prince of Orange. Стивен Дак.
Stephen Duck (Стивен Дак) On the Marriage of His Serene Highness the Prince of Orange ILLUSTRIOUS Prince! forgive the feeble Lay, That now aspires to hail your Nuptial Day; Nor scorn a Muse, the meanest of the Nine, Who brings her humble Off’ring to your Shrine. And you, […]
English Poetry. Stephen Duck. Gratitude. Стивен Дак.
Stephen Duck (Стивен Дак) Gratitude A PASTORAL. MENALCAS, COLIN. MENALCAS. FRiend COLIN! well o’ertook. I have of late Observ’d thy chearful Mien, and airy Gait: Say, what auspicious Change, since t’other Day, When by thy lonely Cot I took my Way? Sorrow and Sadness then […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 44. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 44 Buds of roses, virgin flowers, Cull’d from Cupid’s balmy bowers, In the bowl of Bacchus steep, Till with crimson drops they weep. Twine the rose, the garland twine, Every leaf distilling wine; Drink and smile, and learn […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 36. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 36 If hoarded gold possess’d the power To lengthen life’s too fleeting hour, And purchase from the hand of death A little span, a moment’s breath, How would I love the precious ore! And every hour should swell […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 14. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 14 Count me, on the summer trees, Every leaf that courts the breeze, Count me, on the foamy deep, Every wave that sinks to sleep; Then, when you have number’d these Billowy tides and leafy trees, Count me […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 5. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 5 Sculptor, wouldst thou glad my soul, Grave for me an ample bowl, Worthy to shine in hall or bower, When spring-time brings the reveller’s hour. Grave it with themes of chaste design, Fit for a simple board […]