PoemsCupples and Hurd, 1888 - Всего страниц: 179 |
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already Anglo-Saxon Anglo-Saxon poet art thou bard beauty Beauty-Maid beloved BIRDLET breast Byelinsky Byron called calm cher clouds cold consolation corpse Cossak darkness days of yore dear death Delibash demon desert distant dreams ELEGY Emerson English English Poetry eyes faithful false metaphor fate fear feeling filled fondling Forget freedom gaze give glance Goethe grief grieve hand hast hath hear heart Hence hither joyful kiss light lines listens literary living lyre maid Malthusian masterpieces melancholy memory monk monument moon murmur Muse nigh night Nizhny Novgorod nought o'er once poem poet poetry Pushkin quiet reader regret rush Russian Schiller sentiment Shakespeare Shakespeare's Sonnets shore sight silent sing sleep slumbers song sorrow soul Spirit of Denial spring stanza steed storm tears tender thee thine Thou art thought thro tongue Transcaucasia translated trembling true trust Tsar unto voice waves weary wondrous woods youth
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Стр. 45 - Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past. Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess: The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again. Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down; It cannot feel for others...
Стр. 45 - Oh, could I feel as I have felt, — or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanish'd scene ; As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So, midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me.
Стр. 48 - That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer ; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees...
Стр. 45 - It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.
Стр. 46 - I HEARD the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls ! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls ! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above ; The calm majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes. From the cool cisterns...
Стр. 11 - Yes ! I remember well our meeting, When first thou dawnedst on my sight, Like some fair phantom past me fleeting, Some nymph of purity and light.
Стр. 48 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Стр. 59 - Vous me demandez mon portrait, Mais peint d'après nature : Mon cher, il sera bientôt fait, Quoique en miniature. Je suis un jeune polisson Encore dans les classes; Point sot, je le dis sans façon, Et sans fades grimaces. One, il ne fut de babillard, Ni docteur de Sorbonne Plus ennuyeux et plus braillard Que moi-même en personne.
Стр. 52 - Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles. And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine...
Стр. 10 - Men suffer all their life long under the foolish superstition that they can be cheated. But it is as impossible for a man to be cheated by any one but himself, as for a thing to be and not to be at the same time.