English Poetry. Charlotte Brontё. Preference. Шарлотта Бронте.
Charlotte Brontё (Шарлотта Бронте) Preference NOT in scorn do I reprove thee, Not in pride thy vows I waive, But, believe, I could not love thee, Wert thou prince, and I a slave. These, then, are thine oaths of passion? This, thy tenderness for me? Judged, even, by […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To Anthea (Anthea, I am going hence). Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To Anthea (Anthea, I am going hence) Anthea, I am going hence With some small stock of innocence; But yet those blessed gates I see Withstanding entrance unto me; To pray for me do thou begin;— The porter then will let me in. […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. His Mistress to Him at His Farewell. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) His Mistress to Him at His Farewell You may vow I’ll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. —Take then tribute of my tears; So long as I have fears To […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. The Wounded Heart. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) The Wounded Heart Come, bring your sampler, and with art Draw in’t a wounded heart, And dropping here and there; Not that I think that any dart Can make your’s bleed a tear, Or pierce it any where; Yet do it to this […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. Upon the Loss of His Mistresses. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) Upon the Loss of His Mistresses I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses:— Stately Julia, prime of all; Sapho next, a principal: Smooth Anthea, for a skin White, and heaven-like crystalline: Sweet Electra, and the choice Myrha, for the lute and […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To Dianeme (Dear, though to part it be a hell). Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To Dianeme (Dear, though to part it be a hell) Dear, though to part it be a hell, Yet, Dianeme, now farewell! Thy frown last night did bid me go, But whither, only grief does know. I do beseech thee, ere we part, […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To Dianeme (Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes). Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To Dianeme (Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes) Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies; Nor be you proud, that you can see All hearts your captives, yours, yet free; Be you not proud […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. Of Love. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) Of Love How Love came in, I do not know, Whether by th’eye, or ear, or no; Or whether with the soul it came, At first, infused with the same; Whether in part ’tis here or there, Or, like the soul, whole every […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To Sapho. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To Sapho Sapho, I will chuse to go Where the northern winds do blow Endless ice, and endless snow; Rather than I once would see But a winter’s face in thee,— To benumb my hopes and me. Robert Herrick’s other poems: A Paranaeticall, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 46. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 46 Behold, the young, the rosy Spring, Gives to the breeze her scented wing; While virgin Graces, warm with May, Fling roses o’er her dewy way. The murmuring billows of the deep Have languish’d into silent sleep; And […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 41. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 41 When Spring adorns the dewy scene, How sweet to walk the velvet green, And hear the west wind’s gentle sighs, As o’er the scented mead it flies! How sweet to mark the pouting vine, Ready to burst […]
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? […]