75. MADAME DE BRINVILLIERS TO HER ART. 1675 г.Some love to look into their lover's eyes, And some to watch a baby in its sleep, And some to count the jewels that they keep, And some to watch the fading summer skies;But I prefer...

74. PHILIP IV. TO HIS BARBER. 1660 г.I'll tell thee, if thou carest, what's a king: A creature all men feed on,—sucked, and bled; A carcass in the leech-pond, not yet dead; Whose shape you scarce can see, so close they cling.Su...

76. JEWELLER CARDILLAC TO HIS RUBIES. 1680 г.At last I have them back, and feast my gaze. They gleam more crimson for the blood they've cost, And sparkle like the murder-reddened frost, As every little facet winks and plays.Tru...

TO plead my faith where faith had no reward,To move remorse where favor is not borne,To heap complaints where she doth not regard, --Were fruitless, bootless, vain, and yield but scorn.I lovЁ|d her whom all the world admired,I was...

Sonnet 61. From “Idea”Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part!Nay, I have done. You get no more of me!And I am glad, yea, glad, with all my heart,That thus so cleanly, I my self can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all o...

71. GALILEO TO THE EARTH. 1638 г.And yet it moves, it spins, through night and day, With dumb terrific speed; and town and throng, Mountain and tossing sea, are whirled along, And not one drop is lost upon the way.On Heaven's d...

72. MASANIELLO TO THE DUKE OF ARCOS. 1647 г.Knowst thou yon dark Vesuvius? Hast thou heard The growl of its unfathomable mines Of creeping fire, long ere the red wrath shines, And seen the birds take flight though nought has stirred?...

73. ISAAC WALTON TO RIVER AND BROOK. 1650 г.Which is more sweet,—the slow mysterious stream, Where sleeps the pike throughout the long noon hours, Which moats with emerald old cathedral towers,And winds through tufted timber like the d...

69. TILLY TO SPIRITS OF CARNAGE. 1631 г.Ye Spirits of Destruction, that have flocked From every quarter of the lurid sky, To see the flames of Magdeburg outvie Each other's rage, till Hell's own glare was mocked:Join in my trai...

70. LYCIDAS TO MILTON. 1637 г.The flowers that we lay upon a tomb Are withered by the morrow,—ere the crowd Which for a moment ceased its hum, and bowed Its head, as Death flew by and made a gloom,Resumes its whirl. And scarcel...