Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон)
Sonnets. 13.Thy Glance Is Lovelier Than the Glance of the Moon
Thy glance is lovelier than the glance of the moon, Thy breath more heavenly than the breath of may, When thou dost gaze my sight begins to swoon, When thou dost breathe my own breath swims away. O love, with strange clear light, with strange dim breath, Thou dost pervade me, till all strength, all sense, Dissolve, it may be as they will when death Looses the soul from the body’s impotence. The stones I tread no longer solid are, These narrow houses all are built of air, Nay, are they on this star, or on that star Distantly trembling? Am I here or there? Love, love, I know not what is near and far, I am with thee and thou art everywhere.
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