English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 119. Lay His Sword by His Side. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 119. «Если умер герой…»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 119. Lay His Sword by His Side Lay his sword by his side,[1] – it hath served him too well Not to rest near his pillow below; To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell, Its point was […]
English Poetry. John Bannister Tabb. The Fire-Fly. Джон Банистер Табб.
John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) The Fire-Fly “Are you flying through the night Looking where to find me?” “Nay; I travel with a light For the folks behind me.” John Bannister Tabb’s other poems: Chimney Stacks The Bobolink The Honey-Bee The Bee and the Blossoms The Pleiads […]
English Poetry. John Bannister Tabb. Sleep. Джон Банистер Табб.
John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) Sleep When he is a little chap, We call him Nap. When he somewhat older grows, We call him Doze. When his age by hours we number, We call him Slumber. John Bannister Tabb’s other poems: Chimney Stacks The Bobolink The […]
English Poetry. Charlotte Brontё. The Teacher’s Monologue. Шарлотта Бронте.
Charlotte Brontё (Шарлотта Бронте) The Teacher’s Monologue THE room is quiet, thoughts alone People its mute tranquillity; The yoke put on, the long task done, I am, as it is bliss to be, Still and untroubled. Now, I see, For the first time, how soft the day O’er […]
English Poetry. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 86. Was it the proud full sail of his great verse. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 86. Его ли стих – могучий шум ветрил
William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир) Sonnet 86. Was it the proud full sail of his great verse Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of (all too precious) you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the […]
English Poetry. John Bannister Tabb. Light and Shadow. Джон Банистер Табб.
John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) Light and Shadow “I love you, little maid,” Said the Sunbeam to the Shade, As all day long she shrank away before him; But at twilight, ere he died, She was weeping at his side; And he felt her tresses softly trailing […]
English Poetry. John Bannister Tabb. Amid the Roses. Джон Банистер Табб.
John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) Amid the Roses There was laughter ‘mid the Roses, For it was their natal day; And the children in the garden were As light of heart as they. There were sighs amid the Roses, For the night was coming on; And […]
English Poetry. John Bannister Tabb. A Legacy. Джон Банистер Табб.
John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) A Legacy Do you remember, little cloud, This morning when you lay– A mist along the river–what The waters had to say? And how the many-coloured flowers That on the margin grew, All promised when the day was done To leave […]
English Poetry. John Bannister Tabb. Seed-Time. Джон Банистер Табб.
John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) Seed-Time When Trumpet-flowers begin to blow The Thistle-downs take heed, For then they know ’tis time to go And plant the wingèd seed. John Bannister Tabb’s other poems: Chimney Stacks The Bobolink The Bee and the Blossoms The Honey-Bee The Pleiads […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. What the Pine Trees Said. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) What the Pine Trees Said I heard the swaying pine trees speak, As I went down the glen: “Next year,” said one, “the wind shall seek, But find me not again!” “I shall go forth upon the seas, A mast, or […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. The Birds on the Christmas Sheaf. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) The Birds on the Christmas Sheaf “And wherefore,” the finch to the starling said, On the Christmas sheaf, as they hungrily fed, “Wherefore do now the children of men Open their hands, when, again and again, They drove us away from their […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. The Christmas Sheaf. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) The Christmas Sheaf Provençal It was a gleaner in the fields,– The fields gleaned long ago: The evening wind swept down from heights Already brushed with snow. The gleaner turned to right, to left, With searching steps forlorn; The stubble-blade […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. Christmas Post. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) Christmas Post In Sulz-am-Neckar, when night shuts down, And the Christmas Eve has come, All through the little snow-white town There’s a joyous stir and hum. Now here and now there, along the street, From windows wide open flung, Float childish […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. A Christmas Offering. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) A Christmas Offering Florence, Italy I shall never forget Cimabue’s Madonna, No, nor the niche close by in the wall, Where, on the straw, the Bambino was lying, While the oxen knelt in the stall. Rude are the images, tinsel […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. Babushka. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) Babushka A Russian Legend Babushka sits before the fire Upon a winter’s night; The driving winds heap up the snow, Her hut is snug and tight; The howling winds,–they only make Babushka’s more bright! She hears a knocking at the […]
English Poetry. Abraham Cowley. To The Lord Falkland. Абрахам Каули.
Abraham Cowley (Абрахам Каули) To The Lord Falkland FOR HIS SAFE RETURN FROM THE NORTHERN EXPEDITION AGAINST THE SCOTS. Great is thy Charge, O North! be wise and just, England commits her Falkland to thy trust; Return him safe; Learning would rather choose Her Bodley or her […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. The Witch’s Child. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) The Witch’s Child ‘Tis Elfinell–a witch’s child, From holy minster banned…. Again the old glad bells ring out Through all the Christmas land. No gift might she receive or give, Nor kneel to Mary’s child: She watched from far the joyous […]
English Poetry. Edith Matilda Thomas. Melchior’s Ride. Эдит Матильда Томас.
Edith Matilda Thomas (Эдит Матильда Томас) Melchior’s Ride Melchior rides from door to door, Large Christmas doles he seeks; A pannier wide receives the store, Yet never a word he speaks! The nougat bells so merrily ring Yet never a note he hears; He gathers the gifts […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 86. Ne’er Ask the Hour. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 86. Ne’er Ask the Hour Ne’er ask the hour — what is it to us How Time deals out his treasures? The golden moments lent us thus Are not his coin, but Pleasure’s. If counting them o’er could add to their […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 104. As Vanquish’d Erin. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 104. As Vanquish’d Erin AS vanquish’d Erin wept beside The Boyne’s ill-fated river, She saw where Discord, in the tide, Had dropp’d his loaded quiver. “Lie hid,” she cried, “ye venom’d darts, Where mortal eye may shun you; Lie hid — […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 70. ’Tis Gone, and for Ever. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 70. ’Tis Gone, and for Ever ’TIS gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking, Like Heaven’s first dawn o’er the sleep of the dead — When Man, from the slumber of ages awaking, Look’d upward, and bless’d the pure […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 39. The Prince’s Day. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 39. The Prince’s Day THOUGH dark are our sorrows, today we’ll forget them, And smile through our tears, like a sunbeam in showers: There never were hearts, if our rulers would let them, More form’d to be grateful and blest than […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 19. Eveleen’s Bower. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 19. Eveleen’s Bower OH! weep for the hour, When to Eveleen’s bower, The Lord of the Valley with false vows came; The moon hid her light, From the heavens that night, And wept behind her clouds o’er the maiden’s shame. […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 10. Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 10. Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore RICH and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore; But oh! her beauty was far beyond Her sparkling gems, or snow-white wand. […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 6. The Harp That Once Through Tara’s Halls. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 6. The Harp That Once Through Tara’s Halls THE harp that once through Tara’s halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara’s walls, As if that soul were fled. — So sleeps the pride of former days, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 118. Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 118. «Я помню время, Арранмор…»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 118. Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore Oh! Arranmore, loved Arranmore, How oft I dream of thee, And of those days when, by thy shore, I wandered young and free. Full many a path I’ve tried, since then, Thro’ pleasure’s flowery maze, But […]
English Poetry. Abraham Cowley. On the Death of Mr. Crashaw. Абрахам Каули.
Abraham Cowley (Абрахам Каули) On the Death of Mr. Crashaw Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given The two most sacred names of earth and heaven, The hard and rarest union which can be Next that of godhead with humanity. Long did the Muses banish’d slaves abide, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 110. Sing, Sweet Harp. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 110. «Пускай мне Арфа пропоёт…»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 110. Sing, Sweet Harp Sing, sweet Harp, oh sing to me Some song of ancient days, Whose sounds, in this sad memory, Long buried dreams shall raise; – Some lay that tells of vanished fame, Whose light once round us shone; […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Desmond. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Desmond By the “Church of the Name” lies Desmond, The body of Desmond lies, And the wind of the east cries “Desmond,” And “Desmond” the west wind cries. And the wind of the south calls “Desmond,” And “Desmond” the north wind calls, As […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. The Isle of Doom. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) The Isle of Doom Out of the mist off Galway shore, Out of the morning mist, Rose the island of Hy Brasail With its crags of amethyst; Crags of purple and amethyst, And meads of gleaming green, Rose the island of Hy Brasail […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. The Way of the Cross. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) The Way of the Cross Where the wild sea-mew flocks and flees, And neither winds nor skies beguile, Foam-set amid the Irish seas Is rugged Skellig Michael isle. Up its escarpments, rough and grim, To its bleak summit rimmed with moss, The monks […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Tyrconnell. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Tyrconnell They crowned Tyrconnell On the rock of Doon; “Hail! hail!” they said, To that anointed head, The henchman all; They led him to the hall; “Hail! hail! Tyrconnell!” How the rafters rang! Clang! clang! How the blades out-sprang, Like shimmering lake-water underneath the […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. The Spectral Rowers. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) The Spectral Rowers What is that shimmering line of white Gliding under the stark midnight– Gliding–gliding–gliding–gliding– Where the river gleams when the moon is bright? There is never a sound save the night bird’s cry, And the languid water lapsing by– Lapsing–lapsing–lapsing–lapsing– Under […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Etching at Night. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Etching at Night I wandered in the streets of Galway-town, When night had let her dusky curtains down, And in a doorway, tall and fair and slight, Framed by an inner beam of golden light, Beheld a maiden of madonna face, Pensive and sad, […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Ballad of Protestant’s Leap. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Ballad of Protestant’s Leap It was Sir Frederick Hamilton’s men Were hungry for the fray, And it was a son of the bog and fen Would guide them on their way. By the good book an oath he took, This glib and open […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. A Song for Joyce’s Country. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) A Song for Joyce’s Country O a song for Joyce’s Country, where the grim wild mountains be, And the wind wails over the moorland as the wind wails over the sea, Where the new moon’s silver sickle sees little of grain to reap, And […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 80. Whene’er I See Those Smiling Eyes. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 80. «Переполняет этот взгляд…»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 80. Whene’er I See Those Smiling Eyes Whene’er I see those smiling eyes, So full of hope, and joy, and light, As if no cloud could ever rise, To dim a heaven so purely bright – I sigh to think how […]
English Poetry. Abraham Cowley. Beauty. Абрахам Каули.
Abraham Cowley (Абрахам Каули) Beauty LIBERAL Nature did dispence To all things Arms for their defence; And some she arms with sin’ewy force, And some with swiftness in the course; Some with hard Hoofs, or forked claws, And some with Horns, or tusked jaws. And some with Scales, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 83. Forget Not the Field. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 83. «Помни, придя в это поле…»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 83. Forget Not the Field Forget not the field where they perished, The truest, the last of the brave, All gone – and the bright hope we cherished Gone with them, and quenched in their grave! Oh! could we from […]
English Poetry. Emma Lazarus. Autumn Sadness. Эмма Лазарус.
Emma Lazarus (Эмма Лазарус) Autumn Sadness Air and sky are swathed in gold Fold on fold, Light glows through the trees like wine. Earth, sun-quickened, swoons for bliss ‘Neath his kiss, Breathless in a trance divine. Nature pauses from her task, Just to bask In these lull’d […]