English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 58. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 58 When Gold, as fleet as zephyr’s’ pinion, Escapes like any faithless minion, And flies me (as he flies me ever), Do I pursue him? never, never! No, let the false deserter go, For who would court his […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 74. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 74 Monarch Love, resistless boy, With whom the rosy Queen of Joy, And nymphs, whose eyes have Heaven’s hue, Disporting tread the mountain-dew; Propitious, oh! receive my sighs, Which, glowing with entreaty, rise That thou wilt whisper to […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. Thou Art, Oh God (From “Sacred Songs”). Томас Мур. Из цикла «Духовные песни». Тебя мы славим
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) Thou Art, Oh God (From “Sacred Songs”) “The day is thine, the night also is thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun. Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou hast made summer and winter.” – Psalm lxxiv. 16, […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Longing. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Longing The lilacs blossom at the door, The early rose Whispers a promise to her buds, And they unclose. There is a perfume everywhere, A breath of song, A sense of some divine return For waiting long. […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Combatants. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Combatants He seemed to call me, and I shrank dismayed, Deeming he threatened all I held most dear; But when at last his summons I obeyed, Perplexed and full of fear, I found upon his face no angry frown,— […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Probation. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Probation Full slow to part with her best gifts is Fate; The choicest fruitage comes not with the spring, But still for summer’s mellowing touch must wait,— For storms and tears, which season’d excellence bring; And Love doth fix his joyfullest estate […]
English Poetry. Francis Thompson. Lines. Фрэнсис Томпсон.
Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон) Lines To W.M. O tree of many branches! One thou hast Thou barest not, but grafted’st on thee. Now, Should all men’s thunders break on thee, and leave Thee reft of bough and blossom, that one branch Shall cling to thee, my Father, […]
English Poetry. Francis Thompson. Epilogue to the Poet’s Sitter. Фрэнсис Томпсон.
Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон) Epilogue to the Poet’s Sitter Wherein he excuseth himself for the Manner of the Portrait Alas! now wilt thou chide, and say (I deem) My figured descant hides the simple theme: Or, in another wise reproving, say I ill observe thine own high […]
English Poetry. Francis Thompson. Epilogue to the Poet’s Sitter. Фрэнсис Томпсон.
Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон) Epilogue to the Poet’s Sitter Wherein he excuseth himself for the Manner of the Portrait Alas! now wilt thou chide, and say (I deem) My figured descant hides the simple theme: Or, in another wise reproving, say I ill observe thine own high […]
English Poetry. Francis Thompson. A Foretelling of the Child’s Husband. Фрэнсис Томпсон.
Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон) A Foretelling of the Child’s Husband But on a day whereof I think, One shall dip his hand to drink In that still water of thy soul, And its imaged tremors race Over thy joy-troubled face, As the intervolved reflections roll From a shaken […]
English Poetry. Francis Thompson. A Foretelling of the Child’s Husband. Фрэнсис Томпсон.
Francis Thompson (Фрэнсис Томпсон) A Foretelling of the Child’s Husband But on a day whereof I think, One shall dip his hand to drink In that still water of thy soul, And its imaged tremors race Over thy joy-troubled face, As the intervolved reflections roll From a shaken […]
English Poetry. Duncan Campbell Scott. To Winter (Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year). Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт.
Duncan Campbell Scott (Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт) To Winter (Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year) Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year; Come from thy fastness of the Arctic suns; Mass on the purple waste and wide frontier Thy wanish hosts and silver clarions. Then […]
English Poetry. Duncan Campbell Scott. To Winter (Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year). Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт.
Duncan Campbell Scott (Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт) To Winter (Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year) Come, O thou conqueror of the flying year; Come from thy fastness of the Arctic suns; Mass on the purple waste and wide frontier Thy wanish hosts and silver clarions. Then […]
English Poetry. Margaret Cavendish. What is Liquid?. Маргарет Кавендиш.
Margaret Cavendish (Маргарет Кавендиш) What is Liquid? All that doth flow we cannot liquid name Or else would fire and water be the same; But that is liquid which is moist and wet Fire that property can never get. Then ’tis not cold that doth the fire put […]
English Poetry. Margaret Cavendish. What is Liquid?. Маргарет Кавендиш.
Margaret Cavendish (Маргарет Кавендиш) What is Liquid? All that doth flow we cannot liquid name Or else would fire and water be the same; But that is liquid which is moist and wet Fire that property can never get. Then ’tis not cold that doth the fire put […]
English Poetry. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 93. So shall I live, supposing thou art true. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 93. Что ж, буду жить, приемля как условье
William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир) Sonnet 93. So shall I live, supposing thou art true So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceived husband, so love’s face, May still seem love to me, though altered new: Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place. For […]
English Poetry. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 93. So shall I live, supposing thou art true. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 93. Что ж, буду жить, приемля как условье
William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир) Sonnet 93. So shall I live, supposing thou art true So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceived husband, so love’s face, May still seem love to me, though altered new: Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place. For […]
English Poetry. Duncan Campbell Scott. November. Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт.
Duncan Campbell Scott (Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт) November Above the lifeless pools the mist films swim, On the lowlands where sedges chaff and nod; The withered fringes of the golden-rod Hang frayed and formless at the quarry’s rim. Filled with the wine of sunset to the brim, These limestone […]
English Poetry. Duncan Campbell Scott. November. Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт.
Duncan Campbell Scott (Дункан Кэмпбелл Скотт) November Above the lifeless pools the mist films swim, On the lowlands where sedges chaff and nod; The withered fringes of the golden-rod Hang frayed and formless at the quarry’s rim. Filled with the wine of sunset to the brim, These limestone […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Poetry. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Poetry One spot of green, watered by hidden streams, Makes summer in the desert where it gleams; And mortals, gazing on thy heavenly face, Forget the woes of earth, and share thy dreams! Florence Earle Coates’s other poems: Tennyson Sappho Song […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Poetry. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Poetry One spot of green, watered by hidden streams, Makes summer in the desert where it gleams; And mortals, gazing on thy heavenly face, Forget the woes of earth, and share thy dreams! Florence Earle Coates’s other poems: Tennyson Sappho Song […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Life. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Life Before we knew thee thou wert with us; ay, In that far time, forgotten and obscure, When, doubtful of ourselves, of naught secure, We feebly uttered first our human cry. We had not murmured hadst thou passed us by, […]
English Poetry. Florence Earle Coates. Life. Флоренс Эрл Коутс.
Florence Earle Coates (Флоренс Эрл Коутс) Life Before we knew thee thou wert with us; ay, In that far time, forgotten and obscure, When, doubtful of ourselves, of naught secure, We feebly uttered first our human cry. We had not murmured hadst thou passed us by, […]
English Poetry. Frederick Locker-Lampson. The Old Clerk. Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон.
Frederick Locker-Lampson (Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон) The Old Clerk We knew an old Clerk, it was “once on time”, An era to set sober datists despairing; Then let them despair!—Darby sat in a chair Near a cross that takes name from the village of Charing. Though silent and lean, […]
English Poetry. Frederick Locker-Lampson. The Old Clerk. Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон.
Frederick Locker-Lampson (Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон) The Old Clerk We knew an old Clerk, it was “once on time”, An era to set sober datists despairing; Then let them despair!—Darby sat in a chair Near a cross that takes name from the village of Charing. Though silent and lean, […]
English Poetry. Frederick Locker-Lampson. O Tempora Mutantur!. Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон.
Frederick Locker-Lampson (Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон) O Tempora Mutantur! “O cruel Time! O tyrant Time! Whose winter all the streams of rhyme, The flowing waves of Love sublime, In bitter passage freezes. I only see the scrambling goat, The lotos on the water float, While an old shepherd with an […]
English Poetry. Frederick Locker-Lampson. O Tempora Mutantur!. Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон.
Frederick Locker-Lampson (Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон) O Tempora Mutantur! “O cruel Time! O tyrant Time! Whose winter all the streams of rhyme, The flowing waves of Love sublime, In bitter passage freezes. I only see the scrambling goat, The lotos on the water float, While an old shepherd with an […]
English Poetry. Frederick Locker-Lampson. The Cradle. Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон.
Frederick Locker-Lampson (Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон) The Cradle Aye, here is your cradle! Why surely, my Jenny, Such slender dimensions go somewhat to show You were an exceedingly small pic-a-ninny Some nineteen or twenty short summers ago. Your baby-days flow’d in a much-troubled channel; I see you as then […]
English Poetry. Frederick Locker-Lampson. The Cradle. Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон.
Frederick Locker-Lampson (Фредерик Локер-Лэмпсон) The Cradle Aye, here is your cradle! Why surely, my Jenny, Such slender dimensions go somewhat to show You were an exceedingly small pic-a-ninny Some nineteen or twenty short summers ago. Your baby-days flow’d in a much-troubled channel; I see you as then […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 34. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 34 Oh thou, of all creation blest, Sweet insect, that delight’st to rest Upon the wild wood’s leafy tops, To drink the dew that morning drops, And chirp thy song with such a glee, That happiest kings may […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 34. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 34 Oh thou, of all creation blest, Sweet insect, that delight’st to rest Upon the wild wood’s leafy tops, To drink the dew that morning drops, And chirp thy song with such a glee, That happiest kings may […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17 And now with all thy pencil’s truth, Portray Bathyllus, lovely youth! Let his hair, in masses bright, Fall like floating rays of light; And there the raven’s die confuse With the golden sunbeam’s hues. Let no wreath, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17 And now with all thy pencil’s truth, Portray Bathyllus, lovely youth! Let his hair, in masses bright, Fall like floating rays of light; And there the raven’s die confuse With the golden sunbeam’s hues. Let no wreath, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 50. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 50 When wine I quaff, before my eyes Dreams of poetic glory rise; And freshened by the goblet’s dews, My soul invokes the heavenly Muse, When wine I drink, all sorrow’s o’er; I think of doubts and fears […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 50. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 50 When wine I quaff, before my eyes Dreams of poetic glory rise; And freshened by the goblet’s dews, My soul invokes the heavenly Muse, When wine I drink, all sorrow’s o’er; I think of doubts and fears […]
English Poetry. Christopher Morley. Peter Pan. Кристофер Морли.
Christopher Morley (Кристофер Морли) Peter Pan “The boy for whom Barrie wrote Peter Pan—the original of Peter Pan—has died in battle.” —New York Times. And Peter Pan is dead? not so! When mothers turn the lights down low And tuck their little sons in bed, […]
English Poetry. Christopher Morley. Peter Pan. Кристофер Морли.
Christopher Morley (Кристофер Морли) Peter Pan “The boy for whom Barrie wrote Peter Pan—the original of Peter Pan—has died in battle.” —New York Times. And Peter Pan is dead? not so! When mothers turn the lights down low And tuck their little sons in bed, […]
English Poetry. Charlotte Mew. A Quoi Bon Dire. Шарлотта Мью.
Charlotte Mew (Шарлотта Мью) A Quoi Bon Dire Seventeen years ago you said Something that sounded like Good-bye; And everybody thinks that you are dead, But I. So I, as I grow stiff and cold To this and that say Good-bye too; And everybody sees that I […]
English Poetry. Charlotte Mew. A Quoi Bon Dire. Шарлотта Мью.
Charlotte Mew (Шарлотта Мью) A Quoi Bon Dire Seventeen years ago you said Something that sounded like Good-bye; And everybody thinks that you are dead, But I. So I, as I grow stiff and cold To this and that say Good-bye too; And everybody sees that I […]
English Poetry. Christopher Morley. The Young Mother. Кристофер Морли.
Christopher Morley (Кристофер Морли) The Young Mother Of what concern are wars to her, Or treaties broken on the seas? Or all the cruelties of men? She has her baby on her knees. In blessed singleness of heart, What heed has she for nations’ wrath? She sings […]